neverneverland trixie wonder, what fumes, a scent rolls back. a sweet cuddle creeping towards the front of the stage. penetrating distance finding only seldom bridges, without a hand towards the beginning. it was said that to begin again the air shall clear. it's an impossibility, really for the hands of a god live only in myths and the mind's eye taunts the heart leaving only a lost cause, an empty cup of coffee or a blank page. it's like a chord out of tune strummed for hazy hopes of children. a new life. no reason to associate or leave a pained plane. known as fear veiled by laziness by sleepytime hopes in vein offering noble tracks. there was a time when the dull whipping once excited only on the screen. a never before the first tight swallow. now fuming, a distant wind. calling to the dead, to return, neverneverland. 040509 what's it to you? who go blather from