here_is_now raze no story ever ends. not really. and maybe this is what will always draw me back here. none of these conversations are over. you might be gone, but your words linger, waiting for someone to pick up the thread you've left, waiting for them to shake off the dust and curl the colour of that soft fabric against the shape of their body, sleepy and still and smiling through the sting of sun and sand. 210509 what's it to you? who go blather from