| He picks her up and squeezes her body to his, then lets her slide down until the tips of her toes touch the ground, all the while kissing. | |
|
"I am an artist," he said,
"I create with words. I can
describe the feelings of
your heart, plot the twistings of
your mind, evoke a prickle
of ice up and down your
back and smooth your
wrinkled brow with just a
simple sentence, words in
a row." "I, too, am an artist, but my art is more exact. I can describe the birth of a snow- flake, tell you why a diamond sparkles, sprinkle the heaven with stars and the earth with life, with just a simple sentence, numbers in a row!"
| |
| "Hormones," she said. "Bliss," he replied, and they kissed again. | |
|
"Hormones," she said.
"Beauty," he replied, and fell too.
|