She feels the world gradually slip inside her, first the streets, then the skyscrapers. As though from a distance she, herself, closes in on her body and slips inside herself. Her body glows, thickens, expands. But no, her body is the same. It is she who extends in all directions, who is both inside and outside her body. She feels present, feels visible in the world. She’s in the gestures of the body, in its movements. Her heart palpitations soothe her. She thinks of it as her guardian animal beating its wings inside her chest, soothing away the pain. She, the watcher, watches the inner dweller, and watches itself watching the others. She is full of people.