abandon all hope, you who enter here
Dante Alighieri
I read my suicide note,
unmailed, from a fortune cookie,
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at this particular Chinese restaurant,
where stars aligned under great fires
of kerosene–We were immortal—
couldn’t be burned. And you ordered–
drowning wantons, tea that was too hot,
from a menu written in tongues,
only we understood—
Food had to be rationed,
I hated to share, licking hunger
clean, your hands
aligned, like silk, along
a red dress, thin as paper,
stripped like rust in
Hellish dining rooms,
of injured fans, masking walls,
of this wild fuse~