pub. on Feb 12, 2008
 
No rose without a thorn?
She came to me and I couldn't do anything less than take her in my arms. The thorns pierced my flesh deeply. But we didn't care about the wounds. I needed her as close to me as possible. And we closed our eyes and our virtual bodys moved to the sound of the electric heartbeat.
And while we stood entangled the dream made of bits and bytes became translucent, then pale, then disappeared. The grid gave us free.
As we opened our firmly closed eyes for the first time we found ourselves in the open. And all the thorns made to prevent my touch were gone...
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