i_watch_your_breath this should be rillian on the porch where the outdoor cats jump upon the empty window box and rub their backs against the kitchen window, your hands are on the railing. you look out, breathing steam into the black night. it rises with your voice until it reaches the stars, extinguishing each one with your hopeless sighing. our lives are not paint by number. they are blank canvas. put your hands into the color. you will be amazed at the images you find with the simple swipes of dripping fingers. 031229 what's it to you? who go blather from