This woman, she made me feel bad whenever I would meet her, even though I loved her, she said.
I think I know what you mean, I said. There are people who just aren’t good for us even though they may be good people.
Exactly, she said, took a ribbon between her teeth and put her hair in a bun.
Why do you do that, I said.
I don’t like the feeling of my hair on my neck after making love, she said.
Love, I said. Love, love, love, I shouted. She laughed.
You’re such a cutie, she said. I pouted.
I am serious, I said. I love loving you. You’re like a hind, I said. All graceful strength, gliding muscle.
And you’re the hunter, she said, aren’t you. She laid a cool finger on my chin: get that lip down and come here, sportsman.
Later I sought her fingers, which were still wet from the forest floor. Sleeping, she panted, her nostrils wide and round, small caves, hollows to my heart.