I Thought For A Minute, And Then

I Wanted To Hit Him. I Wanted To Hold Him. I Wanted To Shout Myself Into His Ear.

Which, Then, Brings Us Closer To What We Want To Communicate: Saying What We Intend, Or Trying To Say The Opposite?

She Felt As If She Were Brimming, Always Producing And Hoarding More Love Inside Her. But There Was No Release.

I Imagine A Line, A White Line, Painted On The Sand And On The Ocean, From Me To You.

It Was The First Time I Had Ever Made Love. I Wondered If He Knew That. It Felt Like Crying. I Wondered, Why Does Anyone Ever Make Love?