No hurry at all. I hope to do revisions by end of week, but not required. Thanks so much.

Laura, I'm not the compositionist that Deb is. I just know that I liked your articles. They were informative, laid out nicely point-by-point (very easy to follow) and humorous. I had to do a double take on that first one, also, with all the document management being thrown around. I had to stop and say "wait", "huh?", "oh." It was harder to get into the article, but it was still interesting.

Also, gotta say I'm loving this challenge. It's bringing all kinds of interesting thoughts/insights/emotions into play and all very intense. So, I wrote another one. This time, it came out in the form of a po'm (just for you Pennsylvanians.) It needed a little looser form.

Take My Hand

On the one hand is everything I love, Not limited to the finite of the mind That counts it out just so; that one Might say, “I have more than you.”

The other hand is grasping; like a Starfish looking for lunch—let me Take what’s yours so I may have more.

What’s more is less when one walks The moebius strip of heart and soul; There is no side to take, you Can have it all.

I walked that path from end to end And called it Hell to be walking forever; I stopped to give my hand—Heaven.

edited to play with the formatting

Compositionist? Me? Huh.

Sail, that was exquisite.

Heh, I hope all my afterthought editting didn't make it too hard to read. I wasn't sure how to indent and what I ended up doing worked, but still didn't do quite what I wanted.

Oh Sail. I would love a copy of that.

t blinks.

I'm honored. It's prettier in Word. Would you like me to e-mail it to you?

Please do. Profile addy good.

Kristin, insent.

Thanks Sail.

Also, not at all hard to read, in fact quite a pleasure.

They say that love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Janus, that two-faced bitch, just likes to keep things interesting. My bed is a shrine to Janus, and I lay on the altar every night, listening to that coin roll on the tabletop, wondering which side it will fall on -- heaven or hell?

There are nights when I slip into bed, and when my head hits the pillow, the residue of last night's dreams puff up like dust and suck me into that otherworld where I fly, I float, I fuck without compunction, without rules, without limit.

I long for that world, and on those other nights, the night when Janus rules against me, I lay stretched out, burning-eyed and waiting, on the altar.

I lay myself in sacrifice to Morpheus, but Janus will have his due.