From her small window, she sees the man, young, on his bike, carelessly riding the big city, not holding on to the handlebar, and she remembers what it is to be free. She talks to him. He might be in love with her unresolved, untamed moods, her permanent inner struggles, oscillating between dance and despair. He might love her, she wouldn’t understand why. "You see, I may be beautiful, but I’m right there, at the edge of the cliff, about to fall. The fall is fast, unlike the
