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            <p><span class="line">I am a great pillar of <a href="deathstrumpet.html">white smoke</a>.</span><span class="line">I am Lot’s nameless wife encased in salt.</span><span class="line">I am the wound on Christ’s back as he moans</span><span class="line">with the pounding of a hammer on his wrist.</span><span class="line">I am the nail that holds my house together.</span><span class="line">It is a strong house, built on a good foundation.</span><span class="line">In the winter, it is warm and crawling things</span><span class="line">cannot get in. This house will never burn down.</span><span class="line">It is the house that I built, with my body</span><span class="line">and with my strength. I am the only one who lives</span><span class="line">here. I am both father and mother to a race</span><span class="line">of <a href="plant.html">dust motes that worship me as a god</a>. I have</span><span class="line">monuments built daily in my honor in dark</span><span class="line">corners around the house. I destroy all of them</span><span class="line">before I go to bed, but in the morning</span><span class="line">there are still more. I don’t think I know</span><span class="line">where all of them are. I <a href="howithappened.html">don’t think</a> I can get</span><span class="line">to all of them anymore. There are too many.</span></p>
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