half_asleep_poem_eighty_two raze birds are gentle creatures, but they spread like wildfire. i remember wood once somewhere was described as a singing metal. witness its pressure winding up. i ran over, among other things, a child's foundation. you won't survive growth. and yet it doesn't stop you. i know now that the only rebels the soul can pay for are gone. so many others are central to this story. 241008 what's it to you? who go blather from