On a brain in a boat and a bed

Sophie lay asleep for a couple of hours this afternoon, so I sent the boys to our friends' pool party and stayed at home, alone, with her. I sat beside her as the sun went down and listened to her breathe, and when she finally woke up, the light was dim in the room and she sat up and breathed funny, sharp little ins and outs, distracted, and I knew she was having seizures and that they might kindle into something bigger but still I sat and waited with her, one hand on her leg, here, her shoulder, there, and when it came she fell backward, onto the pillows, her arms and legs stiff, her mouth a grimace, she was a boat, a u, an angle of limbs. I float away, now, during these seizures, my heart beats like oars, I'm a rowboat and I circle Sophie, and you might only hear the oar dip down into the black but you won't hear a word.