

Watch MeThere's a rhythm to it. It's graceful, it's elegant: a snap to the wrist and the line flicks long and lithe out over the water, settling for a instant before - snick! - it's back again, lure flicker-flashing through the air before sent back out again. It's repetitive, but not the sort of same-again motion that binds you to a void of thoughtlessness.Watch Me
It's the kind of same-again motion that unlocks your mind, that abandons any bindings! that allows your thoughts to twirl and lift and dance together. And, despite all that, there's still that sweet stillness of self, ever present and -
C'n't be t'only thing t'make ye fee


That Night...I remember that night, when we rode down to the old swimming hole. I'd never been skinny dipping. I don't think you had, either. Not that we'd have ever admitted it to one another... We were young then, scared and proud, just starting to really test our wings.That Night...
The night was so perfect... A warm summer wind, it made the tree limbs dance just a little, trying to hide the stars above old willow leaves. I'd never seen so many all at once, a lifetime of lifetimes wouldn't have been enough to count those little lights. The moon was full, so big and bright, shining down. The only face that paused to see us, turning everything into shado
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