It happens every day. On street corners, in bars, on dance floors, in bathrooms and offices and shoppes around the world. Fleeting moments of intimacy between strangers, friends, lovers and potential lovers. A shy glance, a forward stare, brief moments of contact, blushing confessions, "I don't know why I just told you that"'s. Hearts racing and palms sweating, most of us face these moments with mixed emotions, letting them pass, denying their significance as proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are inherently all the same. We let them go because to acknowledge them would make us vulnerable because we have been hurt; but I say what's wrong with letting someone else lick those wounds clean? Life is too short, too fleeting for fear. I will meet your gaze. I will stand before you, naked as the day I was born offering, the only thing I have to give. This gift that we all carry but can not give freely. To every woman I have ever loved or will love. To every man, every soul brave enough to look me in the eye. To every blushing girl or boy, every bitch and every bastard, every top, every bottom, my love. It is all I have. It is yours. Take it and pass it on.