The Untreasure Box

It sits on the edge

of my peripheral vision

I try not to look at it

pretend it’s not there

She gives it a name

The Box

Asks if it is alright if we simply acknowledge

that The Box is in the room with us

I am hot and cold

a little queasy

rendered speechless

What would Miss Manners say?!

It feels like a breach of etiquette

to mention The Box

But really

this is why I am here

This has always been

why I am here

I try to look at the box

really see it

before my eyes slide gratefully away

I register

that The Box is bulging

The Box is breathing



© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved


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