vii.

He was struck by her softness, scared as if somehow it would subsume him, like if he held her for too long he would begin sinking into her skin. To melt into the pillow of her embrace the way water envelopes everything it touches. He looked at the fullness of her, the happy gentle way the curves on her surface touched his spindle fingers. The sea that drew him out in the twilight hours of day. He would wade in ankle-deep; sometimes feeling brave, he'd let the waves lap at his knees.