fringe raze sun-stung starlings scatter like seeds, diving down into the detritus of this darkening day, and from the fringe of its frame they pluck words — one for each bird to bring to the nearest cloud that seems sturdy enough to contain it. were we characters in a comic book, these would be our dialogue balloons. mine would carry all i cannot hope to convey about all you are to me. 251106 what's it to you? who go blather from