Spring is change. It’s the perfect time of year.’ ‘Winter has its appeal, too,’ he said. ‘All seasons have a joy that is theirs. In winter o...e can wrap in a thick blanket with a steaming, buttery rum and pass the night even as you watch the snow blow through the city.’ ‘I love the poet that lives in you, Neral Jaye.’ She shook her head and sipped, ‘Poetry is best left to poets, Deres. I fight. The images matter to me as they remind me of what I fight for. They counter the fact that I also fight. His tongue invaded her while his hands removed her veils from her hair and face. Almost reverently he sat up on his knees and unbuttoned her dress all the way to the hemline baring her chest, belly and legs. His kisses following where his hands went. ‘Habibti, je t’aime,’ he breathed in her ear in his mixture of French and Arabic when his lips had trailed her whole body from top to bottom and back again. So he called her beloved and told her he loved her? A warmth blossomed in her chest. She. More

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