Crawl...

Stepping through waterlogged ceilings,

Descending upon her reflection in unison,

The scabs picked by her nails lack warmth,

I see her eyes change as they harpoon my tongue,

Then innocent again as she cries under tables,

Her dress is always the same yet so hard to define,

Hair congealed thick with the remnants of lost and found schizophrenia,

Eva did you sell your shadow again?

I saw it upon the side of the road.