seven love stories high he stood on the edge, of the seventh story the wind caught his hair and breath; there was no telling him now – he had heard it, them all before, all seven stories were below him now – he’d reached the seventh level and thought he could descend to – He was higher then than he’d ever been – all the love he had given and received was being told under his very feet and that was to much to bare – seven love stories high the wind pressed against his heart beaten chest, ape heart, that could only love his off spring, he sprang and fell to his life.