by Shira Lipkin the girl's voice the changeling voice I have studied so hard to pass as one of you. I've spent a lifetime on it. I have tells.
I want you to knowone thing. You know how this is:if I lookat the crystal moon, at the red branchof the slow autumn at my window,if I touchnear the firethe impalpable ashor the wrinkled body of the log,everything carries me to you,as if everything that exists,aromas, light, metals,were little boatsthat sailtoward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now,if little by little you stop loving meI shall stop loving you little by little.