it's more science than art she confessed. like everything else it breaks down. decimals. division. fragments.
the numbers walk like giants. their shadows make us infinite.
time is paper. folded into lives. tiny ogres in their brittle dresses. counting out loud. the burnt bread and missing meat. the ugly songs that make us dance. the beautiful ones we refuse to hear.
soft candles hugging the wick. all nervous flame and fading heat. warm lies fresh from the oven.
it's more noise than language she concedes. frantic bridges spanning increasing gaps. crease patterns. and arrogance. humble demons. trying on worn out maps.
it's close enough now she said. i can see how small it is.