fades raze if dreams can bring back the dead, the inverse must also be true. sleep must sometimes weave a spell that robs you of the still-living when they're already gone. here: you, seated or standing on the bathroom floor of a house i don't live in anymore. your hair is all wrong. so is the oversized sweatshirt. but your voice and your smile are the same. you're gushing about the new dog you haven't named to someone i don't know. not once pausing to acknowledge me. nothing of substance is said. nothing meaningful is shared. the scene fades and i'm left to stew in the mundane truth of it all. whatever we were once, we aren't anymore. soon i won't even see you when i close my eyes and hope to find a friend. 260406 what's it to you? who go blather from