If You Are Not Trying To Hold

He Tilts His Forehead Down To Rest Against Mine And Pulls Me Closer. His Skin, His Whole Being Radiates Heat From Being So Near The Fire, And I Close My Eyes, Soaking In His Warmth. I Breathe In The Smell Of Snow-dampened Leather And Smoke And Apples, The Smell Of All Those Wintry Days We Shared Before The Games. I Don't Try To Move Away. Why Should I Anyway? His Voice Drops To A Whisper. "i Love You." That's Why.

I Try To Forgive Her For My Father's Sake. But To Be Honest, I'm Not The Forgiving Type.

The Morphlings From District 6 Are In The Camouflage Station, Painting Each Other's Faces With Bright Pink Swirls.

They Don't Know That I'm Already Asking For The Moon.

If You Appeal To The Crowd, Either By Being Humorous Or Brutal Or Eccentric, You Gain Favor.