I Had Planned to Dream about Leaping into Rose Petals

Instead there is a large glass jar.
A woman, who looks like me,

has said she wants to die,
and asks if I will help her.

I do not think if it is right
or wrong, I simply agree.

We fill the jar with water.
I do not know how she gets in,

but she does, and the water
is up to her waist.

We both know what happens next,
though neither of us says.

I put the jar in a walk in freezer.
I don’t know how. Hours go by. I return

to check on her. More than anything,
I wonder if she will look scared.

I see her from the back. Her hair
is frozen in a wave of brown,

as if she were whirling in air.
Her eyes are barely open.

Her expression is soft. Her lips
do not quite smile, but there is a hint

that a smile is almost there.
She looks easy. Frozen. And somehow

soft. She looks like me. She is dead.
And I don’t know if I should leave her

in the freezer or bring her out to melt.


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