And a face above mine, white and beautiful, eyes as large as the moon. You saved me. A hand on my cheek, cool and dry. Why did you save me? Words welling up on a tide: No, the opposite. Eyes the colour of a dawn sky, a crown of blond hair, so bright and white and blinding I could swear it was a halo.

My heart is fluid and soaring. There's no longer any space between heartbeats.

anything, anything is possible, if you can just see the sky.

I hate skin; I hate bones and bodies. I want to curl up inside of him and be carried there forever.

This is what hatred is. It will feed you and at the same time turn you to rot.

I'm used to a feeling of doubleness, of thinking one thing and having to do another, a constant tug-of-war.

Maybe next time, but probably not.