“He plunged his arms deep to embraceOne who vanished in agitated water.Again and again he kissed The lips that seemed to be rising to kiss hisBut dissolved, as he touched them,Into a soft splash and a shiver of ripples.How could he clasp and caress his own reflection?And still he could not comprehend What the deception was, what the delusion.He simply became more excited by it.Poor misguided boy! Why clutch so vainlyAt such a brittle figment? What you hopeTo lay hold of has no existence.Look away and what you love is nowhere.”
“So why are you here?"He lifted his hands and made as if to lay them on her arms, but just before they touched he stopped and let them fall. Then, simply, as though it were all the explanation she could ever need, he said, "Because I love you.”
“Lincoln closed his eyes. It seemed like the right thing to do, no matter what happened next. He closed his eyes and felt her fingertips touching his cheek, then his forehead, then his eyelids. He took a breath--ink and hand soap."I" -- he heard her whisper, closer than he expected, and shaky and strange -- "think I might be a very stupid girl."He shook his head no. Just barely. So that only someone who was holding his cheek and his neck would notice."Yes," she said, sounding closer. He didn't move, didn't open his eyes. What if he opened his eyes and she saw what she was doing?She kissed his cheek, and he let his head tip forward into her hands. She kissed his other cheek. And his chin. The groove below his bottom lip. "Stupid girl," she said near the corner of his mouth, sounding incredulous, "what could you possibly be thinking?"Lincoln found his mouth. "Perfect girl," he said so quietly that only someone with her hands in his hair and her lips all but touching his could possibly hear. "Pretty girl." He found her mouth. "Perfect." Kiss. "Magic." Kiss. "Only girl.”
“Can I tell you something?" He tilted his head, moving in closer still, so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "Do you want to know what my grandma used to say about kisses on the forehead?"He pressed his lips to her brow, holding the silk soft kiss for a long moment while Isobel stood in place, unable to bring herself to shove him away."She told me it’s the kind of kiss we save for the dead.”
“His eyes searched mine. "Thank you." "For What?" I loved the feel of his arms around me and how I fit against him, hard against soft. He trailed his fingers over my arm, and I was amazed by how he could make me shiver. "For everything," he said.”
“We were close enough to kiss, so close I could feel his warm breathon my mouth. I parted my lips, taking what he felt he could give me, inhailing the kiss he couldn't give me.”