I Wish That My Room Had a Floor
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Wherever dreams dissolve, a residue remains. Mr. Woofe portrays a world where life manifests itself one dream at a time. Forget the waxy build-up? Hell no. The floor exists...beneath the skin...When the floor falls away, and we are left struggling for balance on that tympanic membrane which howls back the sound of memory, Rafael Woolf assures us...that we are not alone.