...me and David were slow dancing. The odors of his brut cologne was
blowing my mind away and the feeling of his fingers on my back. You
know that great car-stomach feeling when you fly over a hump? That
was my whole body.
-- Lynda Barry
I have stripped off my dress; must I put it on again? I have washed my feet;
must I soil them again?
When my beloved slipped his hand through the latch-hole, my bowels stirred
within me [my bowels were moved for him (KJV)]....
If I could read your mind, love,
What a tale your thoughts could tell
Just like a paperback novel,
The kind the drugstore sells,
When you reach the part where the heartaches come,
The hero would be me,
Heroes often fail,
You won't read that book again, because
the ending is just too hard to take....