They always say the final sense to go is hearing, but touch lasts right 'til the end. Not over the whole body, though; I can't feel Dot's hand in mine, but this fucking diaper itches like blazes. I ... [+]
I am a fish with scales instead of years.
I am a snail, body curled in a shell,
Born again every day
From orange and pink dust.
I breathe underwater
I tread on land
I can go days without food
Or change my name to Gluttony,
and the current will still take me on
and on,
and on,
and on,
until the end of time.