tapping your head gently against the wall. the surface white despite the dark creeping in. i can hear the tap dripping so i move toward it and turn it tighter. there is nothing else to do so i move back to the wall. you wonder where the cars are going and sometimes you wish you were in one. i tighten up my tie and stand before you, tall. you loosen my laces. we can be elegant, we can persuade ourselves to be this much. for hours or days or however long it takes. newly empowered, you move to water the plant on the windowsill. you fall and you remember that your laces are untied. you laugh and you black out. she watches you with your bloodied head resting peacefully againt the wall. sometimes she thought, ‘to be done is to be done for’.