You're not honey. Your'e wine. You're the deepest, darkest shadow under a tree on a blazing day. You're strong and hard, coursing like a current at the bottom of a river.

I felt an overwhelming gratitude in my life right now and wanted a chance to acknowledge it. I felt that any thanks given to any god all went to the same place, anyway, no matter what religion you were centered in.

I didn't know where this stuff was coming from - all of a sudden I was a little magickal sprite, bonding with my stone, feeling my earth roots, la la la... All I can is describe the way it felt. And that was how it felt. So sue me. Was I swaying? I felt like I might be swaying.

My face is not that expressive!

I don't love you. But I see the value of you, the incredible worth of you, more than anyone I've ever known.

It happened again this afternoon. Just the way it did that other night. We were talking--talking about how to protect her, actually--and then, suddenly, I looked at her and it was as if I'd found an entire universe in her eyes.

I should have known the power-hungry slave drivers at River's Edge would see my five days of freedom only as a challenge to be filled.