Time Ticks the Light Longer

There was an odd quality
to the light that day
how it fell through the window
changing the blue of her cup. 

She sat, newspaper folded
wondered why people turned. 
That sweet little girl in Indiana
in her pink nightgown, dismembered 
left to forever, such a long time.

Or how she had found out
he had lied to her for years.

Odd, how the light changes 
something as simple as colour.
How we are all deemed to die
different deaths.