Suspended between being and fantastical thinking
Her body, frale and anchored, lies on the bed
There are no words that can be said or actions to be done
For your place is with her, and it is her who must depart
Thoughts began to race, of jovial times and dismal pits of the abyss
You see her cloaked in the fabric of vague memory
Smiling from a joke you said at the party, you were afraid it would offend, but on the contrary
She laughed in echoed tones of partnership, or the time
...
You stand up,
Surrounded by the silence that layered a room you colored
Now, the walls have faded
The door creaks on your way out
