and shadows fall
straight down
sharp as the midday sun.
she walks
toward a door
a slight breeze moves her hair.
in the house,
sitting straight down
closing her eyes
to look
receding
as the sweltering afternoon
sleeps.
a second person
the same as her
dreams
floating now
between each step
deliberate.
she
pulls a key
from between her lips
the room turning
sideways.
returning to that bed
where death left flowers on the pillow
where sleeping lips glisten and taste of metal
she opens the old wounds
of her former self.
taking slow giant steps
towards her double,
crushing whole worlds
beneath her sandles
she holds the knife
before her.
and blood seeps
seaweed slow
and around again
turns the room
a glass smashing there
her gestures
her movements
her steps
deliberate
