Tomb in Three Parts
I
remove my heart from its marble casing and grind that shell into glass
dust and force the dust and the occupational core into a box barely big
enough to hold them and watch while the self-sealing lid sets itself. I
then take the contraption to a place to which I doubt I will ever find
my way back, even if I wanted to which I don’t. I have zero desire for
what has been buried after having been done with like that one that was
once. With such rigor and exactitude does the end come and more than
once, which is a way of making a statement about the infinite duplicity
of a suffocating blanket.
