They say hell is other people but
Perhaps going without them is as well.

She cannot hold the thought
Properly, the streetlamps spread pink
Yellow through the half-open curtain.

Somewhere upstairs Goneril
Might also be sitting like this, in the
Dark, her cognition as cold and solid
As interrupted water.

It was not their worst fight only
It got worse the longer...

Regan walked back to her room
In silence, the sort that might stretch
Indefinitely with no-one left to intercede.