She disregards his existence. He is a void, a hole, an emptiness at the end of a long dark tunnel. He is a pointless journey.

She walks in and he loses consciousness.

She is not disintegrating. She is not vanishing the way he is. He must be strong.

Her scent travels miles poisoning cohesive minds.

She is disharmony and he likes it . . . he likes her for putting the world off balance with her beauty.

He is not a fish.