no: tongue breaks and thin/ fire is racing under skin/ and in eyes no sight and drumming/ fills ears and cold sweat holds me/ and shaking/ grips me all, greener than grass/ I am and dead–or almost/I seem to me.
my tongue grows numb; at once a subtle/ fire runs stealthily beneath my skin:/ my eyes see nothing, my ears/ ring and buzz,/ the sweat pours down, a trembling/ seizes the whole of me, I turn paler/ than grass, and I seem to myself/ not far from dying.
but my tongue is frozen in silence;/ instantly a delicate/ flame runs beneath my skin;/ with my eyes I see nothing;/ my ears make a whirring noise./ A cold sweat covers me,/ trembling seizes my body,/ and I am greener than grass./ Lacking but little of death do I seem.
“You want to dance?” he rasped, his fingers curling around mine. I pointed with my chin toward the celebration below. “Down there - with them.” Where the music beckoned, where life beckoned. Where he should spend the night with his friends, and where I wanted to spend it with them, too. Even with the strangers in attendance. I did not mind stepping out of the shadows, did not mind even being in the shadows to begin with, so long as he was with me. My friend through so many dangers - who had fought for me when no one else would, even myself.