• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 08


I'm showing you how it feels after a while
to be in a well-cut out box, among other things.
Now for those that believe in precious stones
that sparkle, sanitized spaces and cages of gold —
let it be known that warning signs come
in different types, not only billboards. Dominion
comes from one stone but isn't monolithic. Neither
is anything. Look closer. Do you see me? I'm alive,
breathing. My eyes are fossils of yesterday's dreams
my box was too hard to allow for. That was morning.
The shades of cypresses around didn't save noon —
I couldn't step out to let sun-rays seep within me.
At evening, the apocalypse trudged closer with
its heavy feet — the world called me an ugly caricature.

It is night now. The cold winds roar outside and yet
cannot break my house of glass. There is stark silence.
The inmates do not allow for any stretching of senses.
I've been set to fire now, look — before dawn, unmade
to be, forming into charcoal remnants on the pyre of wood.