Act II / A Burning World
Was there a real fire?
I remember going back into the house twenty years ago,
trying to save what we could.
Porcelain and so on. The smell of smoke
on everything.
In my dream, I built a funeral pyre.
For myself, you understand.
I thought I had suffered enough.
I thought this was the end of my body: fire
seemed the right end for hunger;
they were the same thing.
Excerpt from: INFERNO / Louise Gluck