She Saw Herself Moving Through Another Life,

She Had Died At Age Twelve, And By Now She Was Nothing But The Memory Of Love-- Nothing, Now, But Bones.

He Had Handed His Daughter To Caroline Gill And That Act Had Led Him Here, Years Later, To This Girl In Motion Of Her Own, This Girl Who Had Decided Yes, A Brief Moment Of Release In The Back Of A Car, In The Room Of A Silent House, This Girl Who Had Stood Up Later, Adjusting Her Clothes, With Now Knowledge Of How That Moment Was Already Shaping Her Life.

Grief, It Seemed, Was A Physical Place.

It's Good To Be In Love.

It Seemed There Was No End At All To The Lies A Person Could Tell, Once She Got Started.