i watch luke as he picks up his wine glass with his right hand , sliding the neck of his glass between his third and fourth digits , and takes a sip . she didnt care about what was , only with what would be , could be . somehow they got there , and then they were tangled up there , and her hair had come loose and flowed over her shoulders ; her perfume seemed everywhere . dizzy with knowing , i shook the salt out . it was a conflict that they talked about often when their thoughts were their own . 