X as a Function of Distance from Ignatz

(she opens the door) (he is twelve inches away) her fingers still splayed across the battened-down brass latch of his sternum (she closes the door) (he is eight feet away) her palm skids down the banister clings to the fluted globe of the finial (he is twenty-eight feet away) (she opens the door) the black air is fast flowing and cold (she closes the door) she clutches her thin intimacy tight under her chin and trips down the steps (he is forty feet away) the stiff wind palpably stripping his scent from her hair from the numb fingers she raises to her mouth a cab pulls up (she opens the door) she bends the body hitherto upright (she closes the door) the cracked brown vinyl (he is ninety feet away) biting the backs of her thighs red blotches suffusing her cheeks I’m sorry please stop she says (he is four hundred feet away) please stop the cab (she opens the door) the cab stops she pushes a twenty through the slot (he is seven hundred feet away) (she closes the door) the husk of something dry and light falls to the sidewalk crumbles away (she opens the door) (he is two feet away) (she closes the door)