Stifling . Standing at the foot of the stairs, I try to remember the long-lost secret of making time stop. . The light of morning has begun to filter through the windows and I can think of no way to avoid the dawn. . So many bitter words between us, so quickly forgotten in the heat of that last passionate touch... that fervent kiss. . Why do we waste so much time with dialectic? Is it a defense mechanism? Perhaps it is the only way we know to keep each other at armÕs length... where we belong. . The air is stifling, but I would move closer if I could. . .

SMQ1997