“Already, Seattle is taking hold of her. She still holds Sedona in the dry tan of her skin and in her hair, but the fine mist of the Northwest is making its way to places she didn’t know were parched.”

“If I hold her hand she says, ‘Don’t touch!’If I hold her foot she says ‘Don’t touch!’ But when I hold her waist-beads she pretends not to know.”

“She was wet with my crying. Up around her collar the cotton of her dress was plastered to her skin. I could see her darkness shining through the wet places. She was like a sponge, absorbing what I couldn't hold anymore.”

“but she still burns. she is on fire with need. burning that goes deeper than her skin, etched deeply, maybe in her soul, and there seems to be nothing for it, no balm, save inching her arms up to hold herself and wishin the arms weren't her own. ”

“I want to take her into my arms and hold her tight. But at the same time, I know that is the exact opposite of what she wants. She wants to be free, and all I want is to hold her tight against me. ~ Elder”

“She knows her place in this world. She can tear down its walls, and still nobody knows her name. - Naomi”