she can't feel it when he touches her face she's eternally numb to everything.

when she was young she used to dust for fingerprints on every banister she couldn't trust,

when she was young she used to look at the rain through her polaroid and once she even saw the eclipse and she twisted her fingers together and crumpled like a paper swan in the front yard, she was so overcome with feeling that she couldn't contain it.

she was prone to blacking out, to crying and drinking glasses of wine till she went blind.

Last week she gave away everything that meant anything so her walls are empty, she has a looking glass, she has a box full of keys to things she swears she will sometimes find but has never found as of yet, she has a kaleidescope and a picture of the eclipse taped to the emptiness above her window.

she has no middle fingers, she has no wedding rings, and no secrets. she is wrapped up in wallpaper, she eclipses with the silence.