“Long gazes, soft purposeful touches, slow love making. You know like on TV or in the books.”

“Sorry babe, we’re a little more complicated than that. But this is a nice moment, right?”

“Yes it is.” Just then I remembered something in my closet and I jump up suddenly to get it.

“Why Ms. Porter. I do believe you are tormenting my virgin eyes with your nakedness.” She says playfully in her best southern accent.

“Oh please, after these.” I point to my back. “There is nothing virgin about you.” I continue to the closet adding an extra little sway just for her.

“You know I could apologize for those, but I wouldn’t mean a single word of it.”

“I hope not.” I say, my back to her, trying to reach the box. When I do find it, I run back to the bed, the cold air finally catching up to me.

“What cha got there?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Well can I at least see the title.” I flash the title quickly before I resume my search.

“Why do you have that?”

“For the same reason I had that song picked out for us T. Because I love you. Sometimes a song or in this case a poem will tell you how much, better than I can.”

“That’s very romantic of you.”

“Nope just the right thing to do.” I say, remembering when she said the same thing to me, when Kit had sang the song that reminded me so much Tina. “Here it is. Do you mind if I read this to you. I gotta do something, it is the morning after, you know.”

“Please, go ahead. Just do me a favor and stop saying ‘morning after.’”

“Deal.”

“Lying here pretending that you’re closer than you are Swear I heard you whispering would someone break my fall Memories of kisses from the dreams until the dawn So come to me, so come to me

The nights when you don’t call, my life is a catastrophe I need to feel you close to me, I’m waiting out the storm ‘Cause when I’m all alone, I imagine I am face to face Inhaling every breath you take, I’m waiting out the storm I’m waiting out the storm Conversation’s hotter than a fireman engulfed Sweeping through my body causing temperatures to smoke Every second passing makes it hard for me to cope So come to me, so come to me Walking with my fingers and I’m creeping down real slow Reaching for the places that no one could ever go Pushing me to ecstasy, you touched my very soul So come to me, so come to me.”

That was beautiful baby. Who was that by?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“Well you have to tell me, because that book is labeled “Bette’s Favorite Poems”. C’mon maybe I like some of their other stuff. Just tell me.”

“Fine. Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Now that’s not fair. What if it’s somebody ridiculous?”

“First of all they are, but this means a lot to me. I heard it on the radio in Philly a while back and I kept it with me.”

“So it’s a song?”

“Yeah, it is. Can we just drop this please?” Please, I’m willing to beg.

“No, tell me.” She simply said. Her face is leaving me no room to argue or compromise.

“JC Chasez.” I whisper.

“Excuse me, who?”

She heard me, because her face is lit up like a Christmas tree. Still she’s waiting for me to repeat it.

“JC Chasez. You know like as in, ‘Nsync.” I am officially uncool for life in this woman’s eyes. Not to mention anyone else that might find about this.

“Oh honey,” she starts touching me cheek. “That’s the corniest thing I ever heard..” She’s not laughing at me, which is good. But she has this, I don’t know sincere and touched look in her face. Huh, who knew that she’d like it.

“But because it means so much to you and it reminded you of this, us. It was beautiful. I love it.” The ‘poem’ earned me a kiss. One of her soft kisses. The ones that offers me all the promises in the world. It was very much like the one that in she gave to me at her door weeks ago after I comforted her. But the stomach grumbling from both of us reminded us that we had to go out and face the world. At least we would be together, fighting what would be considered ***** on earth to most people