softness paste! making hats out of cereal boxes, climbing trees to rescue the integrity of emptiness. howling to me, whispering to you. jump jump don't jump. take ahold of my hand and lets get me down up out and into the blue red future a rooty planted fullness chop chop, hurry! before the chief of defeat starts throwing hard biscuits. 021110 ... ryen Her skin. 040305 what's it to you? who go blather from