For All The People Who Have Infected

I Love You. They Can't Take It Away.

But...books Are So Much More. Some Of Them Are Webs; You Can Feel Your Way Along Their Threads, But Just Barely, Into Strange And Dark Corners. Some Of Them Are Balloons Bobbing Up Through The Sky: Totally Self-contained, And Unreachable, But Beautiful To Watch. And Some Of Them―the Best Ones―are Doors.

The Salt Blowing Off The Sea Makes The Air Feel Textured And Heavy.

I Put My Forehead On His Collarbone, Place One Hand On His Chest. Its Rhythm Reassures Me: He Is Real, And He Is Now.

I Vowed After That Day That I Would Be Your Hero Too, No Matter How Long It Took