The heart is a hollow muscle, and it will beat billions of times during our lives. About the size of a fist, it has four chambers: two Atria and two ventricles. How this muscle can house something as encompassing as love is beyond me. Is this heart the one that loves? or do you love with your soul, which is infinite?I don't know. All I know is that I feel this love in every molecule in my body, every breath I take, all the infinity in my soul.

You tie me up in knots. I want to play you a thousand different songs so you can get a clue of what... I feel inside me.

Have you ever been anyone's?" I ask, a feathery whisper in the quiet bedroom. He lifts his head to mine, and I want him so bad I feel consumed inside, like he's already possessed my soul, and now my soul aches for him to possess my body. A powerful emotion tightens his features as he reaches out to cradle my cheek in his big hand, and there's an unexpected fierceness in his eyes, in his touch, as he cups me. "No. And you?" The calluses in his palm rasp on my skin, and I find myself tucking my cheek deeper into them. "I've never wanted to." "Neither have I." The moment is intimate.

An orgasm is not what I want and I know it. What I want, need, is so much more than that. It's the connection.The exhilarating contact with this human being, a being that compels me like no other. I miss his touch, his kiss. I don't care if he gives me just a little kernel of what he can give; I'm just starving to be fed, and my body has never been like this hungry.

Have you ever been anyone's?" "No. And you?" "I've never wanted to." "Neither have I. Until I saw this lovely girl in Seattle, with big gold eyes, and pink, full lips... and I wondered if she could understand me.

You're everything I never knew I wanted.

What if someone comes?" I half-heartedly protest. "No one's coming here but you.