- Vol. 03
- Chapter 06
The pulsing in my left eye didn’t match the beat in my wrist, at my throat, on the backs of my knees. A disobedient echo that wouldn’t thrum in time.
In the bathroom mirror, I saw you through the pupil of my eye. It was your heartbeat— snare drum of the next generation— throbbing on my lens, announcing your life.
Your eyes were low— grief filmed my chest. Would I birth you sad, or would life bend you sad before your eighteenth year?
Then I realised.
Your eyes were not downcast. They were merely turned to my own heart while you tuned to its rhythm, trying to understand the disparity with your own.