head leaned against cold glass, chin upon her knees, paintbrush behind her ear, hazel writes to clumsy a boy who will never again read; it's crazy how life works, how it took her sight, and traded it for a person who shined brighter than light.

she wonders,

what will life give her in return this time?

and with her fingers, she writes words that break a promise she'd made to henry:

give tomorrow a kiss from me,

for I have chosen to live in a memory