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"She said, 'I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that's touched me.'"

It was amazing that she stood there. That she existed the way she did, in that very moment, with that mind and that hair and those hands.

She stood there against that barbed wire fence and bore her soul. From those doe eyes and well-formed lips, she gave a story of tears. The men that forgot her, the women that ignored her. The way she had lived her whole life and couldn't imagine love.

This from the woman that must have been born to bring passion. From the person God seemed to have granted every gift.

I wanted to touch her. So that maybe she would feel. Wanted to hold her hand tightly, so that she could understand. I wanted her. And there was nothing greater I could imagine, nothing more I could want.

But I was young. So I just listened and wondered how she could not know.