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February 10, 2012
I loved a woman once. I loved a woman with lavender hair and aquamarine eyes. I loved a woman who changed as often as the skies--from dark to light to fierce to fragile, never the same creature twice.

"Will you help me with the back?" she asked once.

"Of course. Of course."

So I zipped her into her brand new skin--watched as the silken flesh closed over the ivory corset ribs; marveled as it smoothed over the muscles; let my fingers linger on the freckles on her neck.

I loved a woman who could never stay the same.