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Girl

	"Oh my God..."
	"Her eyes.  Look at her eyes."
	"Oh, God, what's wrong with her?"
	"She's dead."
	"Is she dead?"
	"She must be dead."
	"Somebody get her some clothes!"
	"I can't see...."
	"Is the ambulance coming?"
	"Poor thing."

	My legs are open, but my eyes are closed to the world.
I don't want to see it anymore.  Everyone will have to come
inside to find me.  If they don't get lost.
	The blue and black skies are black and blue with
yellowy crimson and white.  A red river flows over green
grass with a taste for salt and tears.  Tongues lap, flowers
grow, the trees shed leaves angrily.  Threads and needles
sew burlap jeans for cows.
	I lick the sand to wet my mouth, a cool taste of mint
on my lips.  My arms are tired and drooping, covered with
spider webs.  I can't hold the world on my shoulders any
longer.  The tide is changing.  Red flows over my feet and
legs.

	"Oh my..."
	"Her arms."
	"Look at her arms."
	"What are those?"
	"What has she done?"
	"She'd never do that."

	Tracks.  The train rolls over the tracks, plunging
headlong into a tunnel with no exit.  It hurts to see it
pound into the unbroken, ancient stone.  Wheels turn and
squeal.  There's no stopping now.  The engine exhales its
final breath of steam.
	Hot breath on my navel.  My neck.  All over me.  A
tongue laps at my throat.  It's dark.  The wet hairy beast
slithers on top of me.  I can't see.  I feel him.  Claws on
my shoulders, pinning.  Blood flows over my feet and legs.
A cascade of brilliance in the dark.
	
	"Give her air."
	"Give her air!!"
	"Everyone clear out."
	"The doctor's here."
	"Yes.  It'll be alright."

	My black, crusted lips kiss my mother's withered cheek.
But she's not there any more.  I'm sorry, Mommy.  You had to
die to bring me here.  I'm so sorry.  You'll never know.  Or
will you?  But Daddy was here to care.  Wasn't he?
	Daddy hugs me close.  Too close, too tight, too much
affection.  Don't you understand I'm not Mommy, Daddy?
Don't you know that?  Don't you?
	You can't see me any more.  You won't dare come in.
	There is a fire in my veins.  Burning the forest down.
Tears stream down my face and overflow the red river.  It is
flooding.  Gushing.  I can not stop the flow.  It fills my
world, my vision.  My eyes are blocked from the inside, too.
Close the doors on your way out.
	There are candles by the fireplace, no longer burning.
They'll never light again.  The wick's too short.  I am the
drifting white smoke.  Passing through the ceiling, leaving
behind the stain of my dead ash.