She was a ballerina once. She was a woman and a human being. Now she is a wall.

After each performance she escapes as quickly as she can into the night and dark world of her lover. Her gentle Knife, given back to her by the friends of revolution. Empty sockets bleeding into her heart. Words so wrapped in hatred they are warped and keep him speechless in his rage.

All he knows her by is touch. All she gives him is every part of her that he can reach.