comforter raze what i first mistake for a trapper hat is really a robe wrapped around my head like a bath towel. amusing to look at, but too precarious to be trusted. i find erik holding an envelope of cash in my bedroom. he claims he was only counting it. he seems surprised when i tell him he needs to leave. i have plans for the afternoon. the day is putting on weight and i still haven't had a chance to wash my face. out in the hall he snaps a photograph to remember me by. his zoom lens puts mine to shame, though our cameras share the same soul. his has given him almost a quarter of a million exposures. this is the last he'll spend on me. after he's gone i find you sitting at the foot of my bed, reading something i can't see. your smile is steadfast and serene. your coat a long leaf of gold. the comforter is covered with everything i couldn't find the time to return to its rightful place. "oh no," i say. "you're in the mess of my room." "oh_no," you say. and i know in my bones that echo is an affirmation, as sure as any thought has ever wrapped around my mind. 250510 what's it to you? who go blather from