bevy raze it's difficult to decipher what he's written inside this card. his words blend in with the burned-in body text. swirl of blurred blue ballpoint graphemes. his gift to me is an instrument i already own. a few strummed chords and i'm out the door. i walk the streets that run through my childhood like a bevy of blades until i come to a house with stone steps and a terrace that fans out into a forest. the faded yolk of a sleep-starved sun sinks into the wet earth. i want to taste it before it's gone. to know what it is to burn without making a sound. i build myself a bed in the hard heart of a home that isn't mine and close my eyes, ready to dream of all that's brittle and blighted in me. 250404 what's it to you? who go blather from