I will read you, too, her favorite poem
in that last book.
"I have the key in my pocket.
I know it will unlock my chain, but I do not use it.
I say the key might break, although I know it will not.
The metal chain chafing my skin sends a spray of scarlet stars
into the murky night enfolding me.
They are my stars and the hurt reminds me I am alive.
Who wants to be free?"
Now--