Him: Her: i tipped a box over and white packing foam spilled out, tiny balled polystyrene rolling across the floor. soft protection. hard fragility. strength in numbers. do you wonder where snowflakes come from? who unboxed them and let them spill out? what have they been keeping all this time? maybe a blue bolt of fabric sky to be used next season, maybe they guard the glow of Spring. thereafter discarded, who shields them now? soft fragility. hard strength. protection in numbers. like people, just protecting ourselves.
Her: the day the snow fell upward i thought to myself, hair swinging to lure out the monster under my bed, the stasis of a body is cold, the stasis of two bodies is heat, the stasis of many bodies is loneliness. i reeled in my lines only to find dust bunnies and the bitterness of my soles at having never seen an un-trampled flake of snow. only a weight-less flurry of heaped loneliness, the monster under my bed. Him: