His Reapers Art Angels

Telling my brother via email that when I was nine years this age My brain was frozen while sniffing paint ? Twas, nineteen sixty-eight... Children showed me how and everyone was doing it on the poor side of town Crafted to dye as flowers be their hair; a psychadelic movement with nobody there ? Part her waves his red sea these flames; an outer body experience looking back At retro's defining blades; slashed this threshold, her baby died today ? Black jade.. Circling the air risen from it's chair; parallel dimensions ? Stepping, through time's door.