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Do not remove the fluff.
The fluff insulates, it holds warmth.
Do not remove the fluff.
The fluff is where we laugh in bed,
after a long day of getting shit done.

Without it, all that’s left are mechanics.
Sure it’s revealing; a feat of human engineering, but
the fluff is what makes me want to hold you.

I will miss your fluff like I still miss Mr. Monkey;
lost to history, somewhere in Rotorua.

I’m just trying to tell you it’s okay to be fluffy sometimes.
I know how strong you are inside.

RIP Mr. Monkey. 1975-1978.
Gone but not forgotten.
Do not remove the fluff.

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