“Her sound – dissonant, aching. Her breath and heartbeat and pulse are my new favorite symphony; I’m beginning to learn which notes will play when, and to interpret them. There is wrath and contentment and fear and desire – but she has never let the last get too far. Yet. The sun sings in her hair as her head tilts, dips toward the page. She arches forward, her shape slightly feline as she draws. My heart beats her name.”
