Sometimes when the light fills his glasses,

they turn on her like mirrors, and she sees white,

the white of a labcoat, like the pallor of her skin when

she puts her hands to her ears at night.

---

She now lives in a distant honeyed murmur,

And the wild commotion of a child in flight

towards angel wings and a promised land.

She puts her hands to her ears at night.

---

But silence falls like a black wing,

like a brilliant mind to all the bright

promises that dim all the lies underneath,

she puts her hands to her ears at night.

---

She walks a line between a divine science

And guns that go off with such a light,

at the touch of a man with red eyes,

she puts her hands to her ears at night.

---

But the voices loom like a madman

with a swollen belly in his sights,

who softly lays her down with plastic hands and still,

she puts her hands to her ears at night.

---

And she closes her eyes to all the monsters,

Hiding in white coats, and nestled tight

inside her, green eyes shining on her walls when

she puts her hands to her ears at night,

still dreaming and drowning in the noise

that opens for new born baby boys

who grow tall, silver and broken

who listen to the first sweet words spoken,

hands bloodied and ears open.

Author's Note: So, I started thinking about the whole Lucrecia/Hojo thing, and this came out. So here's a little something I thought I'd share. If you read I hope you liked.