Touch her. Physically. We spend hours, sitting together. She will put her legs in my lap. She’ll turn her back to me and pull pillows into her tummy... I touch her. She loves to be touched, to be massaged. I know her body as intimately as any lover. She trusts me to touch her because she knows me. She knows my spirit. She trusts me and that’s something so beautiful it makes me weak just to feel it sometimes oh gawd it’s AMAZING considering how she’s been abused. It’s a fucking benediction is what. Propped against the kettle, Amy left a note. The letterbox clattered when the front door closed.-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-Dabbing at three colours on the palette, Jack huffed, and reached for another tube of oil.Amy peered over, “Yes, that one, the empty square mark on the tube is a transparent colour. It’s perfect for the sky and those faint wisps of cloud.”He looked towards her, “Oils are tricky, I should stick to watercolour.”She saw the child in his eyes, “Oils are more expressive. They have a. More

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