we don't speak anymore. It's not the result of some explosion of hostility or of a physical sepeareation, we have yet to part, you are still with me when i wake, our paths cross in the bathroom, wrapped in towels to keep away the cold that is between us, even as our brief exchanges of hand signals and grunts become drier...

But there is a canyon in our interactions, a widening, deepening trench seperating us, the only sound that of tapwater filling it, rushing through the chasm between us.