the floor looked lonely
                                       you used to say things to me about the universe,
beneath my feet,
like sand, but breathing slightly less.
the water helped me
                                                     and I would ask you to be more specific
by closing one door and eliminating my
                                                                                    but you told me
                                                           that I simply sounded repetitive.
options.
words came from its lips (lightweight, empty)
like the sound of my breathing
                                                       ­                                     I'll stop talking.
when I'm afraid to make a sound.