I will eat the entire pomegranate. Every seed will blossom in my blood-red gut. My throne will be a chair of ice, my dress a shadow bound with horsehair. I’ll keep this deep-dark room for myself, this obsidian corsage stemmed at my wrist. I will drink the entire river, mother. The sun knows what we cannot. It feeds us like it blinds us. To turn away is to take shape. I know this. The earth above me glimmers with its proof. My kingdom will be the kingdom of endings.