conductive ovenbird When there are mountains and prairies and lakes and half the igneous horseshoe of the Canadian shield between us, we can give our voices to the care of falcons and have them fly fast and far until words made familiar by cadence and tone build a home in the spaces between us. I dreamed of wires stripped of their sheathing, twisted twigs of copper sparking. I wondered if the force they carried was enough to disrupt the electricity of selfhood, turning my mind into a coil of bleached coral. I brought them to my temples and they slid into my ears where they became a living channel for your voice to travel. It was enough to get me through to morning. 260307 what's it to you? who go blather from