"Every time she tried to sketch what she saw in those strange dreams, the image changed. As soon as she captured part of a detail–a button, a viewfinder, a lens, or the things that rippled on its metal surfaces and came alive–the entire shape of the witch's camera transformed and eluded her again..."
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The first thing to know is I didn’t want to ruin the moment. You were inside of me and I wasn’t in pain so much as needing tenderness. One word, “gentle.”
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Does anyone driving notice the woman stretching, back-arching, visible from the freeway? These are the things my eyes are always scanning for: a daytime crescent moon, a couple in a hotel window, a mockingbird nest in a bougainvillea.
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Being put to sleep is loss of control. The moment your body becomes a body. The doctor assures me I will not want to be awake.
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You’re not going to believe this next part: Being sensitive doesn’t mean you
get to turn my crisis into a heavy chain you beat yourself with. So greedy
for damage you claim mine and then blame me for the bruises.