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When Lady Inspiration comes to me She comes, a long tall cool drink in gossamer robes in the middle of a dark, sultry night She beckons me, arm outstretched, finger curling, a small smirk on her lips. I’ll follow her wherever she wants me to go Being her companion is intoxicating… it overcomes and invades the senses, filling me to the brim with feelings of dusky, periwinkle blue I will follow her down her path, whether or not she leads some place healthy I have no defenses against her wiles I am a slave to her eyes She rarely speaks and yet communicates without sound Her messages come through in telepathy, sometimes with words, s

"I... I had to leave someone behind once." The Doctor looks back up at me, pain and fear and regret in his eyes. "Really?" Any other time I would have said it more forcefully, more angrily. (The thought of him leaving me sends me into fits of despair and rage. The thought of him leaving others, taunting me, confirming my worst fears, well... yeah.) But, this time, the sadness in his eyes makes me more concerned than anything. We've been sitting here on this curb for a while now. Just the 2 of us, bent over, looking at each other or at the ground, playing with little stones, or drawing with sticks in the dust. Our body language casual, a bit

He could feel the sadness radiating from her. Sometimes it just doesn't do to have some telepathic powers. Frowning, getting those little worried lines in his forehead, he knocked on her doorframe. "I brought you cocoa. Thought it might make you feel a little better." She turned around, smiled a little. "Thank you." Taking the warm, steaming mug in her hands, he placed a hand on her shoulder. Snuggling into him, he felt the first rays of warmth and hope cut through the cloud of despair that hung around her, the first he had felt in a very long time.

I. Her eyes shine like the sun (and trust me I've seen plenty of suns) Her breasts are round like the moon (and trust me I've seen plenty of moons) Her smile warms my hearts like steam from underground Her hair is like the flax on Keldor III blond and beautiful She is lovely and so I love her. II. Her wit is sparkling like a spring newly emerged from the ground on a cold bright winter's day Her intellect sharp like the fresh blade of a knife Her personality bubbly like the brook Her attention flitting like the butterfly Childlike and sweet World-weary and tired These both reside within her. Deux residence