But then the silence descended and there were no words to fill the emptiness between the spaces that had formed,
No matter meaningful to engulf the finality of it,
No multitude, to forgive the thinness of it,
The stark lines of something more empty than full
of the lack of the form, the absence of presence,
and the full fatness of fatal loss,
the little beatings coming from the nowhere of inside
Thrum thrum thrumming away an invisible toil.
Indeed between the spaces of here and nowhere.

Because then she was gone.