I woke before my alarm and had an extra hour to sit in the kitchen and sip and think.
I had a fight with silver symbolism and won.
The cats reminded me of the value of an ambush.
My eyes devoured red and gold dipped trees.
My ears were given a gift--sounds the shape and texture and flavor of an apple. Fresh and tangy and crisp.
There was a hill, and the world at my feet.
I ran towards the sun through a field of brittle corn.
I remembered the words and what they mean.
I overcame a low-grade panic through sheer, muscley reason.
I was a feast.
I feasted.
I tasted love on my tongue.
I felt at home.
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