mme rieux

she always is standing on a ledge atop the landing, and we feign a smile because we've reached an understanding, not to think or dwell on anything, anything of import, despite this precarious precipice, and our conversation drags from the slight to exegesis, and her voice begs for comfort, but i cannot resist, to lie about my relationship, my relationship with that word: abstraction, abstraction, abstraction, abstraction