A dusty remembrance: a half smile, she's tight in his arms, and wondering "how could reality give way to you?"
Laughing: her hand hovers on a brittle spine, she breathes crumbled glue, and eating dust-
falls again; swept under by half-formed thoughts, dreams reconnected, and his eyes.
She could apologize.
Be untrue in the presence of the numinous; surrounded by those who've shed more ink, more sweat, more tears? No. To those immortals; embalmed in frightening permanence, in cracking pages, and well thumbed volumes with suspicious stains she will be honest-
Lie back without moving and for a moment he will breathe again.
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