Do You Have Any Idea

I Tend Not To Think About The Reading Public At All, Or The Business, When I'm Writing.

Must Protect My Little Pockets Of Happiness.

I Scan The Room. Catherine Is Writing Quickly, Her Light Brown Hair Falling Over Her Face. She Is Left-handed, And Because She Writes In Pencil Her Left Arm Is Silver From Wrist To Elbow.

The Thought Has Cheered Me, And I'd Like To Hang Onto That. Must Protect My Little Pockets Of Happiness.

I Stroke Her Lightly, Memorizing Her Body. I Want Her To Melt Into Me, Like Butter On Toast. I Want To Absorb Her And Walk Around For The Rest Of My Days With Her Encased In My Skin. I Lie Motionless, Savoring The Feeling Of Her Body Against Mine. I'm Afraid To Breathe In Case I Break The Spell.