As Jake walks the two blocks from his apartment to the tattoo parlor for work, he glances across the street to the antique shop. The Octopus's Garden--that name always makes him chuckle and think, "Good name for a sex shop, but not an antiques shop." As he heads to his booth to set up, he notices the guy in the corner with the spider tattoos on his arms and wonders where he recognizes the guy from …

Time for work. As always, Jake begins his day by reading the poem he keeps taped to the wall of his booth …

Paint-spattered and weary
one stray curl straggling
free of his ponytail,
he comes to bed …
Careful not to wake me,
he climbs into bed
and gently reaches out
to hold me--
effortlessly entering my dreams …

And later in the night,
he gently teases my body
into wakefulness with his
tender loving touch …

Once more we sleep,
entangled in each other's arms …
waking in the morning
to make love again …

And I bask in the
Light of his love …

… and he wonders, like he always does, if anyone will ever love him that much again.

Then his thoughts turn to a striking dark-headed chick he's seen around SCAD. It's obvious that she's rich and would probably never have anything to do with someone like him. "Hell," he thinks, "she's probably incapable of looking beyond appearances. And I certainly don't look like anyone she'd be caught dead with." Her loss, definitely her loss.

Jake's apartment as painted by Jake.

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