"No." She was looking at something beyond the staircase, something I couldn't see. Both the object and the barrier were invisible. "I never fell."

"No release..."

"No."

I mouthed the words back to her, repeated what she said, let the syllables roll around in my mouth like marbles, like prayer beads between hands, sucking on them gently. I hollowed my mouth to take them in, to take the poisons out of them, like leeches to blood. And when they were pure again, I opened my mouth back to her, and let them out slowly, as if through water, through the air. She didn't notice.

"I love you," I said. "I love you even like this, as you ignore me. I love you descending down the stairs. I love you through our ailments, and when they turn against each other. I love you when I cannot reach you, when I scream at you. I want to squeeze your body in those moments, despite the distance."

She retreated back up the stairs and I contemplated the possibility of my foolishness.