Desire arrives nameless, a scent, a breath, a thread. It glides across the skin, in the tone of a voice, and ignites what was cold. It doesn't touch—it insinuates a touch, speaks without saying a word. It turns silence into an invitation, and distance into a barrier. It remains there, between almost and yes, playing at being a secret. And whoever feels it already knows: desire never comes—it awakens in secret... author unknown...