"When I was born, fire-hazard was never labeled on my skin. I remember the symptoms: A tingle. My bones would wobble and shake when I first thought of you. Next I would ache. They would scream—a longing that only lost souls would understand. Now it is a sensation I cannot get rid of. As I grew, my cravings did too. Late nights spent dreaming about all the people I wanted to make love to. Then fuck. Then all over again and again."