grasped in a silent way in the morning her breath was like dew weightless in the air just on the edge of visibility charged with meaning there were crushed flowers in her hair and there was something strangely beautiful around the corners of her mouth her dreams were full of children with bones protruding from their feet they had children of their own who smiled in a way that made her think maybe they knew what love was "each line you carve into the ice is a memory," she said "written in a language no one else can understand" i licked the sugar off of her nose and fell back into the humid womb of sleep 130105 what's it to you? who go blather from