boil raze the boy lies supine in the belly of the only bed he's ever known, his eyes half closed. through tears he tells himself what he believes to be true. "you're ugly," he says. "you're ugly. you're ugly. you're fucking ugly." his head is too big for his body. it shrinks each time a lie licks the roof of his mouth. . . . he dreams of a kitchen. not his own. he sees a man in a blue silk robe. the boil on his cheek swells until it's erased the fabric of his face. the weight of it tips him over. he screams. . . . "fine," his mother says. "tell me the story." he weaves a small scene she's seen before. she feigns surprise and hands him his hat when the wind takes it away. this is what love looks like to him. 260829 what's it to you? who go blather from