Love, she has found, is beneath him.

She found him, by a rusted carousel. But he was just standing there, staring, waiting. He doesn't seem to recognize her. He looks like a ghost who has forgotten to die.

But he noticed her.

He said, "Last night I had a pain in my head and I couldn't seem to form a complete thought anymore. Couldn't sleep with that glow coming from the windows. Things out there watching me. And this time I thought I should murder it with a drink."

Taking a swig from his flask, he muttered, "Now, *hic*, I may be immortal, but I can verify; I feel pain, lots of pain. I know because I'm stuck with a lousy woman."

He continued, "I fear that to separate us, I may have to, to take measures for which I will be, unable to forgive myself.

Don't be so cruel as to force a mirror on a man with no face. Bury your memory, your memories of me, bury it, and salt the earth, so that I may finally stop holding my breath.


I wish I had the right words for you.





It is a joy to be forgotten."