godspeed raze you were still around the morning after the night i met you. i knew i had to let you go. you would have died if you stayed with me. i had no pollen or insect eggs to give you. no nanoscopic meals to serve. you played dead when i slid you into a soft pocket of three-ply bathroom tissue. i tried to guide you toward a blade of grass. you weren't ready to leave the slapdash nest my hands had made. i waited for curiosity to cancel out your fear, hoping i wasn't setting you up to be easy prey for a spider or a shrew. my only ambition was to let you live out the remaining weeks of your life in a place that tasted like home. 230605 what's it to you? who go blather from