snowman raze i can't make round a thing that has no shape but the one my mind has forgotten how to baptize with something as simple as a name. to build a family, i always needed someone else to do the dirty work. even if it was only one motherless son doomed to return to the broth he was born as before the temperature dipped low enough to give him the gift of durability. we'll all be soup someday, as rich or thin as living has made us, and only hands that never brushed our skin will warm the bowls that bear our bodies. i still can't pack a snowball to save my life, but i can chart the coasts and waters of my years with one cold finger, and you can study that map for as long as the light will allow. 220220 what's it to you? who go blather from