The years when I knew her body in the way only a young child does, standing next to her in the master bedroom’s avocado-green tiled shower, watching her from a bench in a changing room at the club. I knew even her insides; that small stomach gurgled. I’d lain my head there at night while she read. Hers was the female body I learned first, and in a million complex ways, it will be forever connected to mine.
