Shy Girl

She is very desired. She uses her words sparingly, in the sense that she spares them from themselves. She was nervous about dancing, so she told me. This is her magic: What she feels, she is. Her appearance is yoked completely with her being. Her appearance is totally hers. There is volume to her––that kind of volume that costs nothing, weighs nothing, is nothing. She leaves you space to be. Her body is wise and quiet when she is doing something. The things she does feel lucky to have her. Three or four moments. She is like your little sister’s long hair sweeping across your thigh as she bends down at the dinner table to pick up your dropped fork. Her eyes meet yours and there’s nothing there, so there is everything there.