falsetto raze for two days things felt raw, constricted, weighed down by the strange sickness that comes with losing too much sleep for too many nights chained together like beasts wearied by the loss of what made them wild, and i wondered if that was the last of my old voice slipping away as age stripped me of the range and tone i called my own for so long. this morning i sang some sliding scales. i dusted off my old tricks. i put the work in like i haven't done since before the world went away for a while. i unlocked all those notes. the ones i hoped were still mine. when i sounded like myself again, i improvised a melody that rose and fell like the waves of the bed i slept on when i was a child slouching into uncertain manhood. 230907 what's it to you? who go blather from