“ Make love to me in Spanish. Not with that other tongue. I want you juntito a mi, tender like the language crooned to babies. I want to be that lullabied, mi bien querido, that loved. I want you inside the mouth of my heart, inside the harp of my wrists, the sweet meat of the mango, in the gold that dangles from my ears and neck. Say my name. Say it. The way it’s supposed to be said. I want to know that I knew you even before I knew you. ”