a father and a daughter play snap on a whittled table
bandages around her spine
hot milk can't soothe the grey pain
but they play until she is tired
at 2am
they venture upstairs,
she is carried, weightlessly, in his arms
he is careful not to shatter the breaking bones.

when she is seven they ask her where the grey came from
she says she got into a knife fight
for she has never been one for the truth
she was taught to lie explicitly
her father telling lies so vast
that they passed into truth

sometimes her mind would create things
crystal structures sitting in her hand
a one am run
a girl
so real she pocketed them
into her mind
and she forgot that with a hammer
they would shatter

she forgot so much, that they passed into truth
a crystal lodged in the heart of the fifth girl she has ever liked.