Heating nothing as I refrigerate.
Eating nothing as my body preserves.
We eat and are ultimately eaten.
Preheated, chilled and given to grubs.
We are products for sightless feeders.
Put a tag on me and ship me in a box.
Deliver me to the earth, to be opened up.
Reclined, collapsed, softened and served.
This oven of nothing is heated anyway.
I stare at the flames to assert my intention.
I am alive for now. For now.