Schedule 1, Anaeveris

"We're both buried half-covered in dust and dirt and needles in the bank on the side of the path where the bushes curl, brunt against the world, heavy, full of heart and pulse that's cold, still, and tiding, receding as we wash away. Our lives were so far apart, and still, that bit of air that spreads us from dirt and root keeps us that way, and still it's short measurements that keep two bodies from stagnating, deep air, thin, more winter than flesh, ignored for remaining out of sight. I don't know who killed me, but I know who killed you."