Gentle turpentine, love words, across serpentine slurps and birdsong soaked marshes. Eye see, you boated back to those bad young days when bundles of sticks met superegos and raged by light machine. Calm is peace's precursor. Hands shake when wet. Fur is automatic but hair is always a choice. Swear, animals, your dominion is plant-bound and we are you. Lucidity loves company and extinction squashes bugs. Tread lightly, shod and shoddy, your steps may maker break.