So I fucked her. And I fucked her good.
She slept at my house, in my bed, my pillow beneath her angel head. I made her coffee in the morning and lent her my key to lock the house behind her wake.
I hope that tonight, my bed smells like her. China rain oil and American Spirit cigarette smoke and the scent of the night before.
Her glow has rubbed off on me, that effervescent shimmer of someone who knows who they are. I can see the halo in the mirror and on my face and in my heart.
How lovely she is! How loveless I am.
How beautiful the day, how ugly my intentions and thoughts.
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