Purring fabulousness

"And each night in bed I thought of her as the moon came through my window. I could have lowered my shade to make it darker and easier to sleep, but I never did. In that moonlit hour, I acquired a sense of the otherness of things. I liked the feeling the moonlight gave me, as if it wasn't the opposite of day, but its underside, its private side, when the fabulous purred on my snow-white sheets like some dark cat come in from the desert."

From Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli, which I never finished because I kept reading this paragraph over and over and over again. And sighing - tongue heavy with the palpability of it.