Apogee Journal

I watch her walk around the lawn. She drags the hose behind her and leaves it there in the grass. Water runs. It makes a lake. I see everything through a bedroom window. The room is empty. It has always been empty. My brother was supposed to sleep here, except I never met him. He has died so many times before. I see everything through this coffin empty window. My mother goes inside, and the hose, she leaves it there in the grass. It looks like a snake running water. It makes a lake.