I adore the night, don't you? I wouldn't want it forever, but it's so refreshing. It smells like Christmas- satisfied and sharpening and full of space and infinite time to think and walk. People are scarier at night, but there's less of them and they're usually benign.
I adore you because you're a bundle of contradictions. You're soft without being weak, strong without being hard, open but you're so guarded about being unhappy, modest and attention-seeking, brave about your life but scared of letting someone get close to you. And I mean anyone, not just me. I don't think you would want me as close as I want to be, you see. You seduce without lipsticks and cigarettes and feminine airs, whilst being the most girlish, most beautiful. You've won without running the race, dear. My race, anyway.
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