You help us all into the box.
It is shaped like a coffin.
We are to leave for Mars.
They say
That Earth will be uninhabitable.
We are to lie inside
this box,
that is like a coffin,
for three days.
It takes that long to get to Mars.
For five hours I try
to teach the children
to say,“uninhabitable.”
Their mouths fail to shape this noisy word.
I think about the
impossibility
of keeping
the two-year-old quiet
or still.
Three days.
I think of the improbability
of saving the child with Asthma.
I say,
I’ll stay
here on earth with our children.
Underneath sacrifice,
Artifice.
The anxious place
of silence
in my deep
and small space.
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