I let her sing over me

Last night I spent just a little bit of time with the loneliest one. The beautiful, insecure, sad one who spends more time than the others in the place that most Khmer fear the most- Anywhere Alone. We went to the supermarket together. We bought dinner at the market and ate cross-legged on the tiled floor. I asked if she would pray for the food. She prayed nervously because she usually expects one of the other girls to pray out aloud. We talked.

Later in the evening, while I was resting on one of my other room-mate's bed, she came over and asked if we could share the pillow. She put an arm across my shoulder and started singing. It sounded like lullabies for big people. Sweet, sad songs of love and loss. She sang with the rising, falling, sliding sounds of the traditional folk songs that I still haven't really got yet. I only meant to rest for a moment but I let myself linger. And I let her sing over me.