My hand reaches out and touches your cheek, slowly lifting your face up so that your eyes meet mine. Inches apart, you gaze into my eyes. Face to face... the blood still rushing through your veins, you feel yourself inhale a deep slow breath. My mouth moves closer to yours, our lips meet, brush against each other. So softly at first you think you imagined it. That touch becomes a long slow lingering kiss. You taste me on your lips. You taste the salty sweat of my exertion. You taste your own. The shower water began to steam as I played with the knobs. A look in themirror now showed a disjointed image. From my neck to my forehead my face wasthat of teary-eyed young co-ed, just as Hannah had said. Below were thepoints of my collar bone and when I took a deep breath you could count myribs. There was a fine coating of black hair and a deep nest beneath myarmpits. David Bowie's classic echoed in my mind: "Can't tell if you're a boyor a girl." I tried to let the water wash away the. More

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