A robin flies past the window. Over
the forgotten sunset lie shreds of memory-pictures.
without a slight variation the ideas would fall.

He sits in a room with no doors. Silently moving
he informs you. When is a dream invisible?
staying outside is easy enough to do. falling around,
there is nothing else to say.

She wears lipstick only in her dreams.
without a slight variation she would perhaps be forgotten.
Does this tell me why?
Her sisters smile, nod knowingly, and then slowly vanish.
Pretending, and moving slowly, will only make her colder.

She sits in a room with no doors. Silently moving,
the tear from her cheek touches the floor.
there is nothing else to say.