The Prisoners of the Little Box by Vasko Popa

Open little box

We kiss your bottom and cover
Keyhole and key

The entire world lies crumpled in you
It resembles everything
Except itself

Not even a clear-sky mother
Would recognize it any more

The rust will eat your key
Our world and us there inside
And finally you too

We kiss your four sides
And four corners
And twenty-four nails
And anything else you have

Open little box

~ from Another Republic (Ecco Press, 1976)