smirk belly fire silently, with a smirk, he tells me everything, and nothing. 070130 ... tender_square the nighttime camera bleaches recorded scenes. the grass becomes snow. faces turn ghostly. eyes reflect the blue light back devilish. he unsteadily climbs the steps, head down, ball cap shielding his face, a paparazzi avoider as the camera clucks. after hundreds of entrances this way, he is emboldened one night at one am. he pauses at the top stair, stares into the camera's all-knowing awareness, and a gradual smirk pulls his lips. my body goes cold the following morning watching the clip with a sleep-crusted gaze of horror. 230529 what's it to you? who go blather from