Constantly tasting, things like blankets, fingers, pacifier—linen, starch, rubber. Foods apple, tomato soup, tinged with metal by the spoon. Milk, soft and velvety. Plastic toys, plastic spoons, plastic cups and saucers. Soft, friendly, dusty plastic, and hard, sterile, bony, for eating. Not precious, like wood, which holds bites and is quickly taken away. Nor crunchy and pungent like dirt. A little plant is bitter and the insect moves too much. But soon, crayons, pencils and pens, like spoons, except happy. Crayons, sticky and crunchy, smells like comfort. Pencils made of precious wood. Paper has its own soft taste. And chalk, a bit like mushrooms, but crunchy and dusty, turning to mud. Peanut butter sandwiches, soft and sweet, with snappy, watery carrot sticks. Soft floppy ham and lettuce, a little paint, like plastic, and a little sugar disappears like magic. The world is full of beautiful things.