constellations raze maybe the unexplained stains that bleach this carpet a brighter hue than it was born to be aren't the work of some failed experiment, but a map of stars i can trace with my toes whenever the spirit moves me. i count four here. and if you draw a line through these spheroids of plasmatic wool, you'll see the outline of a gun — a finger firing something so much better than copper-plated steel. 220816 what's it to you? who go blather from