Denouement

it is finally quiet

the form on the floor that is for now

still alive

wonders when its world was last free of noise

at its sides blood is pooling

to meet chalk outlines not yet drawn

and above it the ceiling light is

unyielding

and impossibly bright

moments ago

before the other left

so many things had felt important

but from its place on the floor

wheezing

at the will of a collapsed lung

the form cannot remember why

the photographs will be famous

if the form were to see them it would wish

it had cleaned up a little