she said nothing as she gazed at the screen. all to aware that reality wasn't something you could photograph. the film inside that camera would eventually be developed, but it was no less a dream than any memory she'd had.

she never let go. would only refrain from holding. those shreds of confetti that would dance in the sky when some period parade ran through. all noisy and infectious. and ending much too soon.

she let the bed tempt her into staying there. while thoughts of being different entertained. never crawling under the covers, but contented knowing they were there.

she didn't look. just closed her eyes. wondering what words would crop up next. thoughts doting on entries that had no doors. and exits that dropped no shadows to follow.

he wasn't there anymore. only swimming in the back her midn. empty raft afloat on the surface of her dedsire.

she'd asked, but couldn't reply. because all those bruises no longer ached, but the colors had become so vivid. she told herself to forgive them. and she could. but forgiveness wasn't something she could accept.