Nothing. Everything.

Undone. Things like hysteria. Willing enough. To climb on top of the clouds. Weighing them down with am invisible ransom. Talking to her dreams. In groggy stumbles. The stairs. Too close to their heels. And so much empty space behhind them.

The atoms. Like sour jelly beans. As the plastic grass falls from her easter basket. The chocolate bunnies melted. The colored eggs not found. As she loses herself in the muths of gods and men.

too soon she expects. as the monster ascends the stairs. THe rain on the window cypher enough. To perpetuate the mystery of her skin.

The words arrive and she carelessly pretend to know them. The scale tips to weigh the stones she can no longer lift.