she screams crystal chandeliers
wired to the molded ceiling, translucent
and gleaming a fiery red light that reflects
off the lace of the stillborn curtains.

When she cries
she cries drops big as buckets
that flood the basement in their disdain.
The stagnant air sits weighty as a
homeless old lady.

When she dreams
she dreams oceans and continents,
lost planets and stars and she never stops.
Never has any plans to