burials

first, they anoint you.
the smell fills the room.
this gift’s worth
every word ever written
about it. we compare
our sacrifices,
and they don’t compare.
 
there is always someone
who loves you more.
there is always someone
more jealous than you.
this is a kind of betrayal,
this always wanting more.
 
your desire makes you
too easily bought.
that, too, is written down.