Eros is an issue of boundaries. He exists because certain boundaries do.

In the interval between reach and grasp, between glance and counter-glance, between ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you too,’ the absent presence of desire comes alive.

But the boundaries of time and glance and I love you are only aftershocks of the main, inevitable boundary that creates Eros: the boundary of flesh and self between you and me.

And it is only, suddenly, at the moment when I would dissolve that boundary, I realise I never can.