081613 #worm I remember her leaning over me to kiss me goodnight. Her hair was a dark halo of angelic shimmering softness. Her nightgown--nothing else in the universe was made of fabric so sheer, soft, and slight--softly fell down as she leaned in, and showed her breasts. They were perfect, inquisitive, aromatic, strange, and comforting. I was showered by her love; I was in the center of a gentle storm of shooting stars. Celestial music. There was just the faintest smell of smoke.