Love is like a goat on its hind legs reaching for the juiciest of leaves. Like a big, fat lizard skating on burning sand. Like a pelican skimming the white crests along the beach. Like a shoal of fish glittering beneath the surface of the lake. Like a dog chasing its tail. Like a lioness slinking through tall grass. Like a whale surging up and crashing down into the waves. Like a cobra puffing itself up before striking. Like a hare shivering in the bush while the fox is on the prowl. Like a deer leaping, bounding through the shimmering woods. Like a caterpillar munching and crunching the edge of a leaf. Like a buzzard hopping around a steaming carcass. Like a cow peacefully chewing the cud. Like a mouse tiptoeing into its cozy hole. Like an alligator lunging into the shallows from the muddy bank. Yes, love is like life itself.

Addendum I (November 24, 2001)

I wrote this in the train from London to Reading, on my return from an evening with Lauren. Well, the last evening with Lauren, to be more precise. The last time we made love. And how I loved her! How I hoped for us to become reunited! How I trusted our crazy luck once again!

Addendum II (December 18, 2001)

After this year’s party at Sophie Botros’, I am trundling home again, and thinking about my ardent love for Lauren this time last year. The two of us went to Sophie’s party the day before Lauren and the children flew off to Los Angeles last year. Of this piece, I could only remember a few of the animals, like the goat and the alligator. But I could not remember what they did, how they did it, or why they did it.