Gentle He Would Be, Denied He Would

I Want To Hold You Like A Kitten In My Shirt, And Still I Want To Spread Your Thighs And Plow Ye Like A Rotting Bull. I Dinna Understand Myself.

This Was Nonsense, He Thought. The Need Of Her Was A Physical Thing, Like The Thirsty Of A Sailor Becalmed For Weeks On The Sea. He'd Felt The Need Before, Often, Often, In Their Years Apart. But Why Now? She Was Safe; He Knew Where She Was - Was It Only The Exhaustion Of The Past Weeks And Days, Or Perhaps The Weakness Of Creeping Age That Made His Bones Ache, As Though She Had In Fact Been Torn From His Body, As God Had Made Eve From Adam's Rib?

Then Let Amourous Kisses Dwell On Our Lips, Begin And Tell A Thousand And A Hundred Score A Hundred And A Thousand More

I Thought I Could Make Out Jamie's Highland Screech, But That Was Likely Imagination; They All Sounded Equally Demented.

If I Die Before I Say 'i Love You' It's Because I Didn't Have The Time.