Cold and quiet twisted as she was on the edges of a dream of an endless amount of stars rose like the owl before dawn dragging the dead mouse among the shattered cottonwoods above blood on the canyon brighter than a rose, sank the grief from the lungs of the infiniteness of time oceans and deserts and swamps. Could not comprehend close the gargle of mud sat in her spat of the beauty of it all watching the gnarled dress unfurl beneath her ankles canyons full of color as she descended into another sleepless smile. The river moved on