I thought of how I would fuck her, like a mad, ravaging dog, clawing at her face, but when I saw her body later that night, the tender, fruit-like nature of her skin, the first body since yours I had ever taken the time to examine, I drew away. What was it I wanted from her? I thought about it for a while, but it is one of those questions that, like a starfish, draws a new limb each time you think you've contained it. It has become easier and better to simply do the things one thinks about doing.