There is devil; there is the deep blue sea; and then there’s you. You came attached with a pre-written warning. Each meeting as uncertain as the next rainfall. Each word spoken to you with a sense of trepidation. Each glare aching to stay. Every moment gone by, yearning to be etched. Every touch emanating a spark; each spark begging not to die. The sparks on which books are written. Too many words spoken, yet emotions left unsaid. A story too short to begin, too close to share, too certain of its end. Doesn’t make it any less worthwhile.