They were exposed to the burning licks of rays that dried the bark and drank the sap
Blood trickled from her white night gown and pitter-pattered in teardrops on the wood floors at her feet.
No sense of it here, no sense of having time to feel
Tangled fingertips in dead hair and cracked lips. Her smile had aged years ago and left a child with an old woman's grin.
Everything outside had died and that's why she bled.
So that she could remember life.
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