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.