Dance in the sunlight, sing to the moon, and the stars move with us as we tread the spiral path ever deeper into the universe...

Flashes of memory already crystalizing: Braveheart music playing as I step through the door into a darkened house, footsteps following close behind me, comfort... music that sings of celebration sliding knifelike into my thoughts as I shed tears I've been wanting to cry for weeks... the saltsweet taste of someone else's tears soft on my lips, a gift I will never refuse... promises kept, promises made, promises broken... 'in our next lifetime, when we are cats'... the scent of late nights and escapism and home... the knowledge that when I think 'home' I see one boy's face, framed by thick beard and long hair; and smell that scent, finding solace in it... the feel of silken blanket beneath my body, half-asleep, dizzy, drunk on the sensations running wild through my body and my mind...

...coming home, barely able to believe I didn't dream it, two small pieces of metal and a wealth of bruises and scratches convincing me it was real...

...promises kept, over and over I come back to that, promises kept...

...and for the first time, one who won't hurt me.

Some days, I don't understand myself. Some days I look at my reflection in the mirror, look back at the hours I just lived, and wonder what creature is guiding my actions and thoughts, since it doesn't seem to be ME doing it. Some days I despair of ever finding a way to recognize myself, any chance of coming to grips with what I am, what I want, what I need, what I desire.

And then some days, some nights, when the moon is riding near-full and my body is swelled with lusts I've pushed aside for days and weeks and months and - yes - years... then something clicks and in a burst of pleasurepain and a rush of words I understand it all.

"I saw the panic in your eyes," he said. Saw... tasted... and healed.

I feel as if someone has laid a cool cloth on my soul, comforting every part of me, soothing wounds I had forgotten I had, so used to the pain...

So this is a thank you.

It's a promise to myself.

This is so that days, or months, or years later, when everything seems dark, I can look back and find a ray of hope and happiness.

Sometimes endings aren't sad - sometimes they are beautiful painful wonderful perfect, complete, and at the same time they open the door to a thousand new worlds.

Two nights ago I saw god.

Last night I saw man.

...I wonder what I'll see tomorrow?

*pads off, walking steady into the dawn, eyes open in wonderment and a smile curving lips too often touched by frowns, a knife in her pocket and a lightness in her step that is entirely new to her*