It Was A Kiss Small In Its

Centuries Of Fighting, And For What? I Say. "today It Ends. I Can't Live In Fear Any Longer. I've Cursed This Power. I've Both Enjoyed And Misused It. And I've Hidden It Away. Now I Must Try To Wield It Correctly, To Marry It To A Purpose And Hope That Is Enough.

Memphis—it’s Just A Bird. Birds Fly Around, Brother. It’s What They Do. It’s Not Following You, And It’s Not A Sign. Unless You Really Did Give It Candy And Flowers, In Which Case You Are One Strange Brother.

This Is How The Fire Starts. This Is How We Burn.

There Is No Greater Power On This Earth Than Story.

The Glow Dies Down, And She's Standing At The End Of My Bed--the One Who's Been Following Me Around Leaving Feather Messages. I Take In The Torn Fishnets, Plaid Mini-kilt, Shiny, Riveted Breastplate With Leather Straps At The Sides And A Worn Great Temolo Decal Near The Left Shoulder. Her Wings Are A Crazy Black-and-white-checkered Pattern, Like They've Been Spray-painted At A Body Shop To Look Like Hipster Sneakers.