The dark cloud as it
Cools to cold metal
Will make the shape
Of a box, in which
I will reside.

In there will be a chair
On which I’ll sit, hands
Bolted to the table over
Legs bound, plastic veins
Slipping under skin to
Supplement sustenance to
Keep me hold.

There will be no
Windows, a thick
Steel roof, and I
Will be locked
In, as the dark
Cloud covers
The world.

I will be buried.
The earth replaced with
Cold steel, and four
Walls around me
Staring immortally as if
To say:
‘I will keep you alive
But I will not feed you much.’

14.X.2024