He told me about the time he went into the sauna with his necklace on—

“One time I wore my necklace into a sauna and I felt I was almost gonna die when it seared my neck and I couldn’t get it off. I can still feel it when I think about it.”

I thought about metal searing skin, about the scent of burning flesh. I thought about coagulation—about the metal melting deeper and deeper—and I wondered when it would stop, if a necklace could, maybe, if hot enough, could make an imprint on the heart, no, not in the metaphorical way, but I sure don’t care to find out what a burning heart smells like, actually that might be the very first thing I have ever expressed that I have ever expressed that I do not care to find out, so in that case maybe I should care to find out but in that case where does it stop but in that case the thought is absolutely terrifying so I once again do not care to find out.

Then I thought about the previous night when I had both of my hands wrapped around his neck and how that’s a kind of necklace if you squint hard enough, and I asked what if our skin melted together and what if I left an imprint on his heart and although the skin on my hands is likely to burn off by then, maybe the bones can accomplish the task, but only if I am burning from the inside out, you see, that’s the only way my bones could stay hot enough to make in there.

The truth is that I am not quite sure. All I know of my hands around his neck is that I can still feel it when I think about it.