You do not have to
make up your mind, because I've
made mine up for you.
Like a stubborn old mollusk—who's
been dredged up
from the stony dark ocean bottom
and disabused
of all hope and ambition
because he's never
seen the starlight—this is
my only gift, my greatest
lasting favor:
I swear not to wonder
where I am going? I'll just pose
the question: where did I come from?
Everyone walks around knowing
so very little, but they pretend like
that's a lot.
My body is closed; I will not
debate that. Perfectly,
I'll maintain this ebony silence.
I'm not your
salvation. I am not your hell.
I don't exist
to make the feeling of existence
any easier to take.
I simply exist
to make the feeling of existence
a little less hard
to illustrate.
