'When I touch her, my fingers don’t question what she is. My body knows who she is. The strange thing about strangers is that they are unknown and known. There is a pattern to her, a shape I understand, a private geometry that numbers mine. She is a maze where I got lost years ago, and now won’t find the way out. She is the missing map. She is the place that I am. She is a stranger. She is the stranger that I am beginning to love.'
