dreaming_awake raze my glasses are coming apart. it's the left arm. if i can call it an arm. it's shedding its skin where ulna gives way to olecranon. i know nothing will grow back in its place. no other frames will ever fit my face so well. he slept beside me in my bed last night. like a lover would. i want to ask if he feels rested. i don't ask him anything. what i do instead is tell him about the book of drawings i found in the garage. heroes and monsters we imagined when we were young enough to believe the marks we made on the page might amount to something someday. he says he has no memory of any of that, but he smiles like he's being given back a part of himself he didn't think he'd live to see again. 240905 what's it to you? who go blather from