They walked in on her
The night she dared
To turn the pages
Of blue and red albums
Pulled from their majesty

They dripped forbidden images
Through coughing clouds
And dipped her hair silver
In aged silken strands

They fell to the floorboards
Imprinting her knees
And her eyes
Stained with imperfect reflection

They showed her glaring replicas
Starred with guiltless pique
While she sniffed the deliberate circumstance
Of eternalized photographs
Infected by the elixir of lies

They wiped away their prints
Pushing every fallen vestige
Back into its pomp

While
Counting days to be overlooked
She let herself cry purple
For the feelings never felt

And then they danced
Around the things that mattered.