You smell like hope and promises (as much as a particular cheap cologne, rolling tobacco and leather can smell like those things), you smell like the ...appiest times of my early twenties. You smell like my Jack Kerouac novel, the dog eared-copy with the inscription I wrote to you about love and our lives and coming into romance like a car crash. I feel heavy and wet and all confused. I push your jacket over your shoulders, past your biceps and over your forearms. We both allow it to fall to the. .." Beth grunted. "I can't straighten up..."She was holding the top end of the pole with both hands right through her flesh, trying to keep it from exiting where it wanted to poke through.Béla could see the incredible image in Beth's mind of what she was trying to do. After watching for a few more seconds, she finally found her voice."I'm not sure what you want me to do," Béla said, her voice weak with disbelief. "Do you want on that thing or do you want pulled off?" Well..." gasped Beth,. More

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