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 How does it feel?

   A Fever-Rant, by Adrian Mailenna

   Can I ask you something, Teri?  Just one thing?  How does it feel?  What
does it feel like, to be so amazing, so beautiful and fascinating, that
you've convinced me now that you're some part Muse?  Only a few hours I
knew you, really, a day or so at most, but you put poetry into these hands,
beautiful words into hands long silent, and I can't begin to comprehend why
I feel this way.  You may as well have made a mute sing, because I've never
been able to do this before, not at all, but now, when I sleep it comes so
easily, and I wake up with these words itching in my hands, just rolling
off my fingers in perfect meter.  I don't understand it.  I can't
understand it.  And right now I can't think of any higher pleasure than
trying to make you happy, trying to repay you for this wonderful gift
you've given me.

   How does it feel?

   -- Copyright 2004 Adrian Mailenna.

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