Listen: I’m saying the sound of your name, curve of your letter. It’s time to stop believing in voices. This is the country of the constant. Darling you did not answer, my hands are waving underwater. My hand is holding my other hand, they are friends. In the night my fingers speak in shadows. In Greek your name means cold. Tonight it means a door which will not open. Salt drains the blood from the body but what of want? Please shut the door. I am tired of that sound. My voice is empty. Your first word, bird; mine, chair. Did you always love the window? Everything goes away. I am a girl with four legs. Still. Soon. And. Yet.