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&Whena love story has not been softened by the conversations or the warm lips of centuries, the Stranger is listening. When a love story has never hidden from the lightning or been threatened by the thunder, the Stranger has already stopped and he is rolling and working his hands together. When a love story has the breath and the bones of a man and a woman, the Stranger will leave his path and stand so close behind them, they can not see.&Iwas the Narrator and I whispered a wish into the universe. I was riding a kiss and rolling in your eyes. I wanted to tell you everything you already knew. I never expected the Stranger to come and go, I never expected him to refuse to leave. We had everything, we knew nothing of need or want. I left the door open, and he came with his boots, and once I heard them, I thought it was too late.&Butto have and to hold, they are sweeter and longer than all we are never meant to taste. This is the last of the accidental trilogy, it can be read in any order. I wanted it to be read in the way I see your moonlit eyes, in the way your arms fall across my chest, in the way I am so swollen and free and strong I feel. It was better we found ourselves as lovers, once I grew from a boy to a man. I could have never handled you.&Hotdishes require hotter hands.&Leoto Love, then and in 2025