I am an archaeologist
digging my own plot
of the earth preparing
to fossilize myself
for your sake, for you
insisted to have this
love preserved and put
away for future references.
While my eyes have gone
dry and burn as if
filled with sand, and
my tongue seeks words
that would rather cling
to the wall of my mouth
than slip out through
my teeth to protest, I
run my stained hands over
the image to make sure
the whole me, soul and all
is there, so you can
burn the image in the back
of your mind and keep it
as my proof of adoration.
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