make_believe raze every day a new bead spawns and spins across this ragged rosary. raindrops sprout from the hairless hands of the japanese maple next door. each one a christmas light well past its prime. they all burn the same hue. the colour of whatever's missing in you. two letters lost. a bat or a shrugging bird, and a flexible bag with a cruel sense of humour. first the floating fiend lies to you. tells you it's a red-eyed killer. then the accipiter you fear the most comes to rest too close to home. failure is a slick staircase. it spits you out less than what you were when you woke up and more than you ever thought you'd be. slap a fresh number on the skin that shields your spine, and hum a few bars of "auld lang syne". now kiss the air. make believe there's someone there. you won't be alone for long. 230101 what's it to you? who go blather from