I am sitting on the
Edge of the impartial
Bed, I have been turned to crystal, you enter

Bringing love in the form of a
Cardboard box (empty)
A pocket (empty)
Some hands (also empty)

Be careful I say but
How can you
The empty
Thing comes out of your hands, it
Fills the room slowly, it is
A pressure, a lack of
Pressure
Like a deep sea
Creature with glass bones and wafer
Eyes drawn
To the surface, I break

Open, the pieces of me
Shine briefly in your empty hands