Francine counts the times she disbelieves herself and says she’s sorry. Francine believes her body should be praised. Somewhere I’m a river, she writes. St. Gabriel is inside me. Francine counts I’m sorry’s before bed. I wrap them in blankets, she writes, then send them down the river. St Gabriel praises me at night. Francine counts the times she disbelieves herself. I say I’m sorry to my body, she writes, I say it should be praised. I say one day the flood will come.