Girl You Are Smiling

We greet with a song and a dance. I spend the morning with wet patches on my knees after kneeling in a puddle of wee that was soaking into the carpet. You spend the afternoon going from room to room on the look out for the optimum spot to scribble. We settle for an empty office and lay on the floor - inside, a bare table and desk, a lone drum and a large metal sink. We both lay on our bellies; you do multi-coloured scribbles and i draw square faces. Halting at the beep-beep of the minibus reversing. 

I’ve not taken my tablets for a week. I am getting better at improvised dancing and crying. I jerkily sway, hands skimming the air, spin in circles and bounce - euphoric. I am an abstract expressionist of the living room dancing world.  I look at a list of 200 words compiled to describe movement in performance. I need to practice trotting downwind.