 I'd like to thank Jack and the Friends of the Library and all of you for coming. Thank you. Why I fell in love with you. Your intensity is equal to Archimedes' death ray. The subjects of your focus undulate like Roman boats on the Mediterranean. They tack to avoid you but you position your gaze with such precision your light finds a direct line delivering heat and fire. You flash moments of listening brilliance, top 2% stuff. You're a grizzled detective, experienced in gathering facts, asking strong follow-up questions, attempting to discern motive. You hear the message under my noise, parse the elusive words, discover my obsessiveness and anxiety. Your sense of smell so in tune with your surroundings, it conjures memories of my childhood. The suffrete and laundry soap and sugary smell of my grandmother's hugs. The damp hot air joining me during card games on my grandfather's porch on August nights in New England. You are accommodating to all tastes and preferences, understanding that so much of life exists on a continuum. You are a magician at mixing and matching ingredients, discovering the alchemy that makes everyone's palate celebrate. I know you think I'm stingy with your touch and you're right, I am, but only because the power in your touch commands respect. It must be delayed, then cherished. Your look when I'm interacting with others, when you think I don't notice you. You watch my doubts keep me silent, how I hold my body weak at the lower back and shoulders. You note the fidgeting of my fingers. In these moments, the calm of your eyes, the barest hint of a smile reminds me of your love, but I see there's more, something pressing you. You wait until we're alone in the car, where I'm free from embarrassment, but also unable to escape, to deliver the message I most need to hear. Step up your game, you tell me. There's an angel inside of you. You've shown it to me. Now show it to everyone. Thank you.