“And they all
slept huddled together, and
when one turned over, all
had to shift.” What a gift
that my lying this close
to you is only
my choice.

How have you managed to condense
a whole person to one pair
of shoes, and over 430,
000 pairs of shoes in one
tiny cell block.

A model
of the whole camp, miniature buildings
standing in silence, in unison
with us. I turn to you, knowing
we are both thinking
the same thing- how huge
even a miniature
is.  “A person could get lost
in this place,” I whisper wryly, and you
nod. Could
does not exist solely
in the realm of possibility
anymore.

Looking in
to the gas chambers, I expect
to feel something, anything, but
no, I am traitorously
empty, as is the room.