Neon-Light-Cortege

Your wife stood in her studio a paintbrush in one hand the pole of her IV stand in the other. You remember how she stood that morning - she wasnt wearing any shoes - She had her easel by the balcony doors and she stared out into the woods beside your house. not knowing you were watching she sat the brush down and lifted a pair of scissors that she kept around and cut off her long black without even flinching - you gasped and she turned slowly to you and as you fell to your knees a tear slipped down her cheek into an uneven smile on her mouth and she laughed that weak laugh you never wanted to hear. - and then she whispere