“She murmured, “I love the imagery of Sappho, the warm summer air across the velvety darkness, the lover between love’s thighs.” She stayed quiet a moment. “But it takes a man’s kiss to put the fire to the metaphor.”

“And for just a fleeting moment, a tiny wisp of time that hung in the air like firefliesin summer skies, she wondered if she was in love with him again.”

“Her lips twitched when she quietly read.But if you fall I will be there To pick the pieces of your shattered soul“Shattered,” she murmured to herself. “Shattered soul? Isn’t that too serious? No, I think he will get it.” She continued to write. And put them back togetherI will solder them into a wholeWith the heat of my love I will stay. I will hold the time still.”

“Then she reached to kiss him on the lips, and he let himself have that. Soft, warm, she loved him, a monstrous abomination, a Cursed One. This might be all they ever had, this moment, this kiss, this love.”

“Is there anything fairer than morning?" she murmured, not expecting an answer.He was quiet for a moment. "I can think of three things.”

“Falling in love isn't the problem" she murmured."its the staying in love part that i don't have much faith in.”