A:
Claw at the satin ceiling. Being
buried alive
is a ***** detail
best left to jealous lovers.
B:
Insert your index finger
through the fabric of the lid
and tear.
C:
Taste the tepid soil and tell yourself
the sunrise waits for you.
You are the giant squid, meandering through
the velvet ovens of dirt.
D:
Each digit on your flailing fist
is a fleshy flower in concert
with your wrists. Protrude.
E:
Read your stone-etched name
aloud. Sound out each etched sound.
Each syllable.
Trace it with your fingers.
F:
Shield your brow from the brilliance
of irony as you begin to crawl back in.