Slowie explodes with love.

"Just tired of hearing someone tell me they love me."

"I only say it when I am about to come."

"Listen!"

"I am."

"Nobody means that shit. But the body doesn't lie. A person's interactions with you doesn't lie."

"That's bullshit."

"No."

"It is."

"No."

"I don't know."

"You can tell when you are with the 'love exhausted' people who are done using that word. They are so relaxed that it doesn't even matter anymore. They are hanging out with you and they are not driving something or someone, somewhere. They are fucking relaxed. So relaxed something is spilling out of them, something precious and special. Something youthful and beautiful. Love is getting through the physical; it's sneaking out and making things miraculous."

"You believe that?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Ok."

"It is like you given up on it, completely. You've relaxed. You've stop giving it your definition and then it just escapes through your body--overcoming you, all over someone nice."

"Are we talking about ejaculation?"

"No."

"OK."