she has weathered like a mountain he has shrunken like an apple
she has raged against the dimming light he has said o is it getting darker
she has been and gone he is done and dusted
she is a scandalous matriarch in a purple glass throne he is a perpetually surprised jester / major domo
she gets up in the morning he scowls at consciousness with weary contempt
she fills her days with pixels he fills his days with pixels
they fill their days with medical appointments and fixing the past
in the memories of these twitchy people from the future
this little boy