*I found this old poem in a bedroom drawer last night, folded neatly amongst crusted over nail polish bottles and single lost earrings. A poem out of place for a person out of place. Adanna Thompson, wherever you are, I still don't know how much I should read into that last line.

I'm glad that you've finally let yourself go.
You love boldly and without shame.
You feel alot more and you don't
care if people can read it in your face.

You laugh louder.
You even giggle more.
You're so beautiful to me now.
I can feel all of your thoughts
and they're comforting since they
often echo mine.

And I love the fact that you've grown to love me.
Now I know it's true when people
tell me that I could charm the devil.