center_stone raze the ring comes out of a cabinet already made. primordial ooze wrapped in domed wire. you ask for a blue topaz. what slides into the head looks more like a sapphire to me. something to leave in the place where she's buried. but no grave will hold a body that still breathes. with glass embedded in her face and a heart heavy with god, she'll go on living, each day of her life one more cleft in a quilt of collapsing tissue that won't be torn open. she's an assemblage of all that's failed to end her. aren't we all? 220203 what's it to you? who go blather from