Dirty English

There was no sound. No rythm in the words. Absolute bareness in perfect pitch. Not too high, not too low. Just the closing act in his show. She couldn't understand his actions or the bleak emptiness she seemed to find in them. Red, red, red, she saw, everywhere.

"Don't lie to me. Not now."
her tears wouldn't slip. She didn't welcome them either.

Her reflection, merely a ghost, she thinks, is run down, empty, and beautiful.
"Do you understand why he did it?" breathe.
"Did he die?" blank.
"Do you see him?"
"Everywhere." fingers trace her neck.
"Did you love him?"
"love? Is that a word? Does it mean anything?" I love you.
"Everything."
"Love, what is it good for?"
The woman smiles. "Breathing."