The crate was draped in little red flags
Some said, Fragile, others, Warning
A bright cherry red
like the light refracting off every café table
in the Ninth Arrondissement
As cold as that November would be
deep into the future
So fortuitous as to be unnerving

Nothing protected the marble slab inside
Solid rectangle
A sarcophagus

A shape took form
rapidly, but in slow motion
as he carved himself
to life
while I watched
…gently carrying the chipped away
pieces of stone
off to be kept safe,
out of sight of all others,
for the day he wants them back

January 30, 2025