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October 3, 2004


My home.
I breathe out with the relief of returning--to my space, to the place I've made my home.
I sleep well here and my fears ease.
I have been waiting...wanting this.

My home.
At the same moment, it's both familiar and strange.
It has changed but I am starting to forget how.
The vivid memory is fading.
I want it to and let it fade and still I yearn for it--for what it was.

My home.
It is not my first and won't be my last.
Is it true that home is where the heart is?
An island, a mountain, a voice, a God...
My heart may be torn, but it is home.