Faith pauses to drift into an image that is climbing over the words she is reading.

Faith looks down and stares at the bed. She then begins to remember a dream, the one she had two nights ago. The one in which she awoke drained and sweating.

She can't remember the events which built the begining of the dream, what she had was a faded sense of consumptive peace. Peace from our drifting age, all it's altered questions and visions she is only begining to sense.

She did remember being in a body that wasn't fully her own. A woman spasming in sobs. She and her lover are on the Master's bed, it is the first time since they began their initial seperation, that his cock was inside her. The spasm was involuntary and consuming. It crawled out of her muscles and was the trace of the specific desire they had built.

Faith hears the voice of this woman speaking, calm and resolute. She has removed the sadness that her body is in the midst of performing.

She speaks:

"Slight neglect has caused the creation of buckets to collect the shaking fear and trembling I had so skillfully learned to contain. This I did until my voice was drenched with the shadow of loss. It began to climb deeper and deeper into my words, growing in strength, it then began to sever what I once believed had given me meaning. The breath and sweat of meaning. Shadows, light, touch and sounds, all that is momentary. These were the spaces I used to stitch together the fabric of my imaginary diet. This was filtered through a merging of vision. A vision wielded by a master illusion. An illusion that could not be created alone. An illusion that once placed slightly aside, would cause both deep hunger and restlessness."

The voice ends and Faith returns to her body.

It is now that she experiences a need, a familiar desire that she only felt flash through her while awake. She takes both hands, seperates her lips slowly and enters herself. She pushes up to the canal that leads to her womb which she finds soft, elastic. She continues and it begins to split. She is now able to curl herself up bit by bit. She continues until every component of her outward self is inverted and concealed. It is in this way that she dissolves. She knows now that this bodily dissolution must be displayed. She also knows that it can't be realized without salt and fire. Ashes are burnt memories. They must become liquid synthetic transparencies for building mirrored rooms. Which like containers, allow passage, of many bodies without the exchange of fluids.

Scene closes on Faith walking through the room to a door which she opens and exits.