I laugh. She has not changed. We had this exact conversation nearly twenty years gone. "I love you." Confirmation. Love, desire, need. Hunger. Want. All true. All equally present in this moment. She shuts her eyes, shudders, slides along my skin. Back. Teasing herself. Teasing me. For...for what? Not just effect, not just to raise the pitch. I can feel it in the way she clings. I am not entirely unravelled. Cosmatos may be the expert on signs, but in this one area of his discipline I will bet my own head I am his master. I can read the subtext in her touch. This is more than lust. More than love, even.