Coffined, I woke. Wide eyed and blind, I breathed. Earthsmell, dank and heavy; woodsmell, faint and sweet. Six safe walls left splinters, hooked little comfort stings into my fingers stroking. O my doorless home, my eyeless box. I called it peace, i dreamed only to lie blind, to breathe unseen. Was it through the nailholes you seeped in, sweet cinnamon?
Wood around me, earth above me: helpless i breathe you now, piercing the damp earth smell, the wet wood smell. My dark home frangible, assailed by clarion cinnamon. With fragrant lemon, heady rose, jubilant tangerine. When I open my eyes, what gateless, what abundant burgeoning?
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