“I see that if you try to fit someone in a box, she might slip through the seams like water and become her own river.”

“Then Carol slipped her arm under her neck, and all the length of their bodies touched fitting as if something had prearranged it. Happiness was like a green vine spreading through her, stretching fine tendrils, bearing flowers through her flesh. She had a vision of a pale white flower, shimmering as if seen in darkness, or through water. Why did people talk of heaven, she wondered”

“I felt a Cleaving in my Mind—As if my Brain had split—I tried to match it—Seam by Seam—But could not make it fit.”

“It was like when you ripped a piece of paper into two: no matter how you tried, the seams never fit exactly right again.”

“But maybe you never really had someone, she thought now. Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it.”

“Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which fits best and is more becoming?”