“I get the urge to feel it, too, so when she takes her hand away, I turn her toward me and I feel the edges of New Jersey. I kiss Hoboken and Atlantic City. I kiss Newark and Trenton. I kiss Camden, and then I follow the road west, over the Walt Whitman Bridge into Pennsylvania. And I kiss home.”

“I kissed her.  I kissed her so thatshe could feel my regret, my desire to do right, the way that she had a pieceof me now and I wasn’t letting go.  I kissed her because I had to and kissingher made me feel better.  When I lifted my head her mouth looked puffy and dampand her eyes were glassy with banked passion.I missed you too.”

“When I saw her I was in love with her. Everything turned over inside of me. She looked toward the door, saw there was no one, then she sat on the side of the bed and leaned over and kissed me.”

“I kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her. I try not to bite her lip. She tastes like vodkahoney.”

“I brush her hair out of her eyes and run my finger along the edge of her face. "I love you, Lake.""Say it again," she says.I kiss her forehead and repeat what I said. "I love you, Lake.""One more time.""I." I kiss her lips. "And love." I kiss them again. "And you.""I love you, too.”

“There are no words for how much I will miss her, but I try to kiss her so that she'll know. I try to kiss her to tell her the whole story of my love, the way I dreamed of her when she was dead, the way that every other girl seemed like a mirror that showed me her face. The way my skin ached for her. The way that kissing her made me feel like I was drowning and like I was being saved all at the same time. I hope she can taste all that, bittersweet, on my tongue.”