She stands before me a looming red stanchion. Her tether to my heart towers at heights I've not been able to reach. Though, if I might, I think about touching her and wonder if it will burn my hand. And will kissing her lips again turn mine to stone? I desperately need to know if when we make love for the first time will the pinpoint of light that's been my obsession explode into a million sparkling stars...falling in arcs and streaks of brilliant white. Or will I die up there in the wind, withering on the line that's tied us together for all this time.
-Jim Franks
