There was the sloppy love I felt for greasy food and the overlit sky. There was my love for the sound of my mother's voice which I could not separate from my love for myself because our voices are so similar. And there was the strange pervasive love I felt for Jay because of the teeth marks he left in my shoulder, because of the noise he made whistling in the morning, and because of our mutual penis that joined us together at night like the misformed cartilage between siamese twins. Soon there would be a new love. All of the different kinds of love that held my life together would teach me how to make a new kind of love for my daughter.