Diamond didn’t speak and I could hardly see; maybe that was why we got along so well. Other people could not spend enough time with Diamond. When we listened to the wind together, we under stood exactly what it was saying. When we sat close in the dark, we could feel each other’s broken hearts. Together we stopped being hungry. We ate the bread that I baked. Diamond made soups out of beans and rice. I had no idea that Diamond was working on a portrait of me until he gave me the painting. I told him I didn’t look a pretty as he made me look. I started to do another tattoo. This one was going to be a black heart. Diamond had come in the house when I was half done and took my hand. He took the needle and held it to his heart. I knew that he wanted me to do the other half of my heart on him. So I did. Diamond was leaving me to look for his mother. He kissed me and then he left.
Pg. 85-105
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