wrapped up in rose-tinted sheets, she lifts her eyelids with a
sigh, gazing into the distance outside her window
and the breaking sun. daytime has arrived, sealing the doors of a
sleepless night shut, marking
the end of a horizon of restless dreams,
winding tapestries with battered seams.

is it too much to ask? no, fat skeleton stares back at her from
her mirror; she needs not have mascara under her eyes
and yet she is snow-white; shot at dawn, wondering
what and why and how
this will be if she stumbles ahead.