hourglass raze in your last hours, you alternated between sleeping and working, to the degree that you were still able. there were times when it looked like you were trying to tug yourself out of the enclave you'd carved into a cloistered tomb, and times when i was sure you were digging divots in the dirt with your nails. i think you knew neither notion was within reach. your broken body had taken you as far as it could. after your heart stopped beating, i held you for a while. it struck me then that you weren't trying to tunnel into anything. you were grasping at life, doing all you could to wrest a few more moments from a capsized clock caked with sand. i've seen the soul-stripped shells of fallen friends before. yours was different. your eyes were still open, and they held all you'd seen and seized from the brittle teeth of time. 250630 what's it to you? who go blather from