Assertion of Conditional (ashes)

If a life is a vase that suddenly narrows at the base,

then in the running of our fingers distractedly over the wood-fired surface that is within an unsteady reach, we feel in the dark the fractures as if once this had been dropped — perhaps in a mail car, maybe a baggage car, jolted on a curve in the winter track, a curve that a crew must come along to inspect each spring.

You may imagine an iridescent turquoise interior within my vase, but when this does shatter, what had been my touch is already not even the dark that was then within …

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