A black wooden box
sits on the oak desk
of a dark room.
One flickering light remains,
fixed on this box,
this gift of anxiety.
Rabbits dance along the sides,
in red, purple, green, and yellow,
laughing and playing in dark mystery.
A stag stands proud
on the box's roof,
proclaiming an old warning.
A man stares,
gets lost in his curiosity,
recognizes the beating in the box.
He lifts it.
His hands shake in uncertainty.
He puts it down.
He picks the black box up again,
plays with its hatch,
“it would be so easy.”
But he shakes his head,
puts it down,
and turns away.
Ten minutes later,
he returns,
and takes it up into his grasp.
He laughs,
“who would have thought
I desire what I fear?”
He flings it open,
the beating of his heart waits.
He smiles and takes it.
“It's been a long time.”
He steps back,
and accepts the trap.
-Zero
