From her eyes I could see a moment somewhere, lost. I tried to paint her as she was that night a few weeks later. Talkative with her head titled back. It was impossible and one of the few times I wish I had had a camera, something that would have at least seemed like the way it had been when I looked at it later. Maybe it would be propped up against some novel on my bookself. Pinned to a corkboard. Taped to a mirror so I could see myself, then her, then try to see a little bit of myself in her.
She had been lost in the christmas lights wrapped around the fence of the backyard. She wanted to be somewhere further off, somewhere that was expanding but still within reach.
"My eyes see what they want to see."
I tried to move my hand, it was falling asleep in the position I sat in on the blanket. I felt awkward and a little alone. Her body pulsed within itself and mine did too, only I seemed more focused on what she was saying, on what she was feeling. It seemed like maybe I lost myself somewhere in my own house. Maybe I was still pacing from bathroom to bedroom wishing I had something to do. Someone to tell something to, or at least something to say.
I thought about the word of the day email I had been receiving in my inbox. Corusacte. To give off or reflect bright beans or flashes of light, sparkle. She was silent, perhaps asleep. I noticed a mosquito land on her arm and feed. As it filled I pinched its body. There was a miniscule explosion of blood, yet I felt satisfied. I thought about corusacte again and wasn't really sure how anyone could use that in a sentence. Although it had a delicate and enjoyable meaning, the word seemed awkward when on the tounge. Useless and flat and lacking of communication. Maybe I just needed to talk to more people with wider vocabularies. Or maybe I should just learn to lay here and not worry if I am thinking too much or not thinking enough and just expand a little with the rest of the universe.