Hers is the most intricate of minds. I know this because years of mutual obsession (regarding a seemingly perpetual scientific curiosity) have interwoven our intellect to a degree at which I can almost sense what she is thinking. Even so, she continues to surprise me. Just as a painting may offer a glimpse of the artist's soul, her insight -- her singular twists of logic -- grant fragmentary views of the complexity that is her essence. And it's those elegant surprises that make her genius so irresistibly sexy. It's Thursday, late in the afternoon. She sits in the lab, staring intently at our massive chalkboard. Finally, after twenty minutes of silence, I have to ask, "What are you thinking?" Her eyes fixed on the board, she uncrosses her denim legs and stands up. "The same thing you must be," she replies. I look at the confused array of symbols we've assembled and shake my head... "I don't know." Another minute passes before she looks at me. "No?" She takes a stubby piece of chalk in her already-powdered hand. "It's here," she insists, circling a system of differential equations. "Here," underlining a questionable result in indeterminate form. "And..." (barely audible, as she rests a forefinger on a small stack of notebooks) "...here." I frown, but say nothing. Her eyes (beautiful green behind glasses) are still fixed on that group of equations, and I try again to view their vague abstractions as she must. "You're skeptical," she remarks. (Or was it a question?) I stand behind her and place my hands on her shoulders. "Well..." I feel her relax as she looks to the floor. She says softly, "I just want it to work this time. It's got to." I smell her hair as she leans back against me, and I whisper, "If it's a question of faith, then it's correct." She turns and kisses me, then rests her head on my shoulder. "The science is sound," she proclaims. "It's just not enough. Not this time." I tighten my arms around her and close my eyes. Suddenly, the most striking vision of an ethereal masterpiece flashes before me -- uncanny in its overwhelming intricacy, exquisite detail, and sheer beauty. I feel her shudder. And I know she knows.