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    I remember the way he shone all those months ago; his sun-baked, honey-bread golden skin, his emerald bright eyes, his candy-apple red, turned up lips, raven wing hair and winking lashes. He took over the room until it collapsed around him. Not even the sky could box him in. He towered over the sun and when the moon came up he exploded into a thousand blinking lights which scattered across the sky and called themselves stars. I could see nothing but his eyes. They swallowed me whole, sticky breath and all. I was digested by his presence. That was July.