my careless contagion

I've fallen in love with the sweetest little thing.  Some days I talk to her for hours, or, rather, she talks to me. I sit back and watch her unfurl while my mind rapaciously devours her. There is a back-and-forth, too, I should not neglect to mention. We sup. We compare. We divine the future and dispense with the past. Our hearts beat as one, if only symbolically.  What she does to me, no one else can – or will – do. She calms me, almost pets me to sleep like a beloved, dying canine, says the sweetest things while I fall deeper into her. Her words — so many of them — are perfect, like they were plucked from my soul and fed back to me with gentle hands.  There is so much heart in her, it clamors all over me like an overjoyed dog running to greet me like I've been away too long. She is exuberant and demonstrative, but she is only words. She is not the kind of girl who gives her body to me or to anyone else, for that matter. You see, she's not really real.  ...