She sat in the artist's warehouse listening to the quick drip drops of fresh rain becoming polluted as they passed through rusted drains and lightly onto ***-holed puddles filled with crushed cigarettes. She let her warm breath spool into the air and fill the silence, she closed her eyes, smiled, a private moment to recall what made her smile, what made her sit in the artist's warehouse writing poetry rhymes about how light her heart felt, how clean and fresh the air she breathed was, how she couldn't keep herself from smiling when she thought of him, how he touched her, looked at her, how he breathed into her an earth shattering exhileration of posisbility, curiosity, fascination and unexpected livlihood.... She opened her eyes and caught her breath, as she did every time she thought of him and how he made her feel. She uncrossed her legs threw back her head and came one step closer to understanding what it was she wanted for her heart.