“I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you willdo me irreparable harm. Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.”

“Love.Because of you, in gardens of blossomingFlowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.I have forgotten your face, I no longerRemember your hands; how did your lipsFeel on mine?Because of you, I love the white statuesDrowsing in the parks, the white statues thatHave neither voice nor sight.I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;I have forgotten your eyes.Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound toMy vague memory of you. I live with painThat is like a wound; if you touch me, you willMake to me an irreperable harm.Your caresses enfold me, like climbingVines on melancholy walls.I have forgotten your love, yet I seem toGlimpse you in every window.Because of you, the heady perfumes ofSummer pain me; because of you, I againSeek out the signs that precipitate desires:Shooting stars, falling objects.”

“That soft but penetrating voice that caressed your ears and climbed through your brain like a vine.”

“You can never escape me. Bullets don't harm me. Nothing harms me. But I know pain. I KNOW pain. Sometimes I share it. With someone like you.”

“I like the way you touch me.""I like to touch you... That works out for us, huh?”

“This is the first time I’m meeting your dad and your brothers…all at the same time…and you want me to calm down?” I said, climbing onto his bike behind him.He angled his neck, touching my cheek as he kissed me. “They’re going to love you, just like I do.”