and when I called out to the head, “Languille!”the eyelids lifted up, this time, I swear,in a distinctly normal movement, slow,as if awakening, or torn from thought.
I’m asked questions about travel—What countries I’ve visited, how long I stayed.
They press my fingers to a pad then frownand shake their heads and press again.
In the book when the boy nearly drowned his legs wrapped in weeds or maybe rope
