Janey finds herself
in the furthest corner
of the darkest room:
everything there is cool.
She dreams of seamless days
and dreamless nights; she
trips in the hallway
under unlit lights and
sings to the tune
of untolled golden bells.

Janey gets lost in the attic
but she won’t come down:
everything there is, is cool.

**Subsequently published at Wicked Alice**