In the first few months his heart was made of wind and feathers, and the sight of her sent them whirling softly through his body. But the feathers always turned to sink water faster than he expected. When that happened, he jumped ship only to find the same wet feathers eventually tumbling through the sink drain in his chest. For years he believed that he was incapable of love and incapable of being loved. Where did he get the idea that Love would save him? That it would permanently turn the coals of his heart to gold? Love did not save him. It only reflected his soul without adding anything but clarity.