bound in ambiguity and doused with equivocation she is set ablaze by semantics until she is neither subject nor predicate until she is reduced to the ashes of a burned book an allusion an allegory a ghost in the footnotes haunting the margins trying desperately to rewrite the pages so they speak of her with the same certainty that underscored every word that spoke of him but she is only a chill down the spine she is only a lump in the narrator's throat she is only a name