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