Wednesday 25 January 2012

"When I am anxious."

She stops and rearranges her foot so that she can hold it with both hands.

"When. My heart beats very hard."

I nod warmly, feeling that I can understand, "Trying to beat its way out?"

She stares at me and sort of smiles. I think she meant for me to say that to her.

"No. The beat gets louder and tries to pull my body in, like my pulse has gravity." She makes a fist around her toes, "I would like to draw a picture where an embryo develops heart first." Her ankle rotates, the bones sharp even though she has gained weight again, "Not sentimentally."

We wait together for twenty minutes after that. I know her better, and I can know when she wants me to ask her questions - I should be more careful I'm told. With her or myself? No one has said.

She does not draw anything, but falls asleep instead. Waking and unmaking steadily.

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