[1] His mind - a bone-lantern, a skull hammered into a stone-spine, above a hearth that is always stone cold - dreams of Adrienne's red tresses. It was caressed once by them - A while back - softly like smoke billowing from memories burning now, in his mind.

[2] Adrienne lies in a stanza - room in Italian - she is still, sleeping. He is outside of her, a movable language written and lost when Wind sifts shadows of tree leaves Over her naked body - which is now being loved by another. The stranger's arms are dipping into the river that is Adrienne's waist. He wonders - are shadows as forlorn as this when bodies move, and leave them behind, without a thought?