you read a book that begins as obligation you owe it to your friend who was once your student you read it in the hopes of framing its virtues in a few sentences you read a book in the shape of a key a door appears and the weight of this key sits in your hand you are past the point of the obligatory rendering you are intrigued you are held by the weight of what’s written uneasy in its image unwillingness in its gaze you are reading a book made up of unwritten words you describe it as beautiful but want to retract the word in that instance you weigh the weight of that key in your hand you thread the hole you turn the key you unlock the body the door swings open it creaks with history you unlock the body to find bodies within you read this book you describe it as beautiful you say the light is unbearable as you bear it all the same you accept the consequences of your own doing

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