Summer always feels like a time of sex, late evening nights when the air begins to cool, becoming a bit intoxicated, wandering around town with a friend, that I gaze upon with desire. When I was younger it seems sex was always so easy and enticing. Seduction was always possible, and being from Montana, was probably with almost anyone. I was always fascinated with that blurry edge I could cross into the uncertainty. The forbidden, taboo attraction to male sexuality deepened my allure. It was captivating, sensual, filled with mystery. That part of the day when the sun faded into a twilight darkness heightened my sensuality. Almost like being a vampire on the hunt for some new succulent, beautiful neck to wrap my lips around. As the luminance of light diminish, the light tones of flesh take on an extraordinary radiant glow. The pale moist skin picking up the last remaining traces of light until it completely fades to black. I could never tell if I was more drawn to the poetic beauty of this moment of time or the actual body standing before me. To me this is where the romantic quality of life was born and lingers in a delicate balance and I become consumed by my own seduction.