and when she takes those steps, in the most thorough and deliberate way, she fathoms the burden of a false deliberation. the kind of falsity so false, its the cliche truth. a calamity between the soul spirit and the physical life in the being. daydreams of a secret longing. one of those longings that wakes you from a heavy midnight slumber. awakens the gasping spasms of desire; all at once awakens the breath and the life right out of you, if only for a second. then descent into a reality where there is no distant trickle of light piano tunes playing the caressing soundtrack of your unconscious. vehicular convulsions; the innards about to burst with an outdone, too well rehearsed plea of escape. a plea yearned to be replied to; but pleas are pleas for a reason, merely defined as hope, a want. an untouchable idea obsessed upon and when the distant mirror shatters, who will purify the reflectant flecks? not you. i see now.