Camphor & Maple

August 19, 2013

The smell of
Turpentine and
Humid, pallid air
Fills the space
Between us;
A stunning
Casket built of
Camphor and maple
Forces me to
Remember all
Of your faults.

Beneath the
Lacquer and polish
Of fine lumber
You laugh at me,
So quietly that
Only I can hear,
And refuse to
Speak to me
About luminous
Nature and the
End of all things.
Instead, you pry
Me open in an
Attempt to
Remain on this
Plane for just
A moment more.