“Her eyes met mine again. “So what does this mean for us?”I lowered my forehead to hers. “It means you’re mine.”

“for did it not mean I was losing my darling, just when I had secretly made her mine?”

“I was the silent and ever present figure in your life...but you.” I kissed the back of her hand softly and closed my eyes. "You've always been the meaning of mine.”

“What makes her eyes slide o of mine? What does she see that angers her so, or infuriates her, or disgusts her? Why do I want to break her face o where her eyes do not meet mine? Why does she wear my sister's face? My daughter's mouth turned down about to suck itself in? The eyes of a furious and rejected lover? Why do I dream I cradle you at night? Divide your limbs between the food bowls of my least favorite animals? Keep vigil to you night after terrible night, wondering? Oh sister, where is that dark rich land we wanted to wander through together? . . . [W]hose future image have we destroyed --your face or mine-- without either how shall I look again at both --lacking either is lacking myself.”

“I loomed over her face with mine, gripping her eyes with mine, owning her boy with mine. I saw only her.I felt only her. I heard only her”

“I have to kiss her again; I start with her lips. When I taste her on my tongue, I want more. I need more. Tugging on her bottom lip with mine elicits a soft groan of pleasure from her. I live in the sound of it.When our bodies fit together, like pieces falling into place, I’m nearly undone by it and by her eyes. They narrow and her forehead leans forward to rest against mine. Through her eyes, I can almost see inside her soul. That’s where I long to be: centered near her soul, wedged between it and her heart. ~ Reed's POV”