Contoured and in time, her hollow body fit form well next to i. The bed lie strewn amongst a corner of a room of a building I've passed a million times, a room delicate to their being, casual light with ease. That last breath, as he climbed out and over from corners soaked up by him only, a shockingly reminder of a small time apart. A heavy glance at her tight and naked body, cloaked in sheets. twenty-seven days and counting. Reverse the weeks and start a new. A photo from day one upon a bench, some bar filled birthday. A march on the fifteenth and up against a wall. Defined a little memory, noted and cherished. A group effort, an invite to her place and a gentle decline from that old man. She peered from a window silled watch as he left illegally, begrudgingly.