Skip to primary content

Box | Dec 30 2002

I have been thinking of you. You are like a box I hold but cannot open. When I shake the box, the sound is soft and distant. I have the thought that the box contains a second box, and that the second contains a third. Each is different from the one that held it.

When I leave the house, I carry the box with me. It is light—so light I am apt to forget it’s there. In fact I do forget, but then I see my reflection in a storefront window or in the window of a passing car, and I’m this man holding a box.