She spent summers sunken into the grooves of his muted being.
Pressed against his chest where the rest of the world grew quiet. Silent. Noiseless. Where everything was still. If she listened hard enough, she might hear the rings sing around Saturn.
No rhythms, no songs, no motion, no harmonies. Wanted to drum her fingertips against his lips to feel a pattern. Yet not even her thoughts moved…
But he knew when she grew away, she’d hear melodies, and find reasons to unnoticed rhyming things in her memories.