left inside the room,

the woman with the translucent hair

and unblinking glass eyes

with which she sees in the empty spaces

the things that once were.

Her hands folded,

skin grey and shimmering

with a thin film of dust.

Inured to endless silence,

a voice that died

burning in her chest,

pulsating scarlet

next to her pale heart.

Blank white walls,

dancing with forgotten color,

dreams that once lived

only to be lost in the room

with the woman

who sees the things in empty spaces.


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