noxious raze my feet have been amputated above the lateral malleolus. i teach myself to crawl with slip-on shoes shielding my knees from the unforgiving floor. when the stumps stop hurting, i hobble. when i get used to being shorter than i was before, i walk. every story in this building is a small city. there are rivers and streets without vessels or vehicles to give them purpose. people fall in groups of three before i can reach them, their collective dying choreographed by whatever awful thing they've been breathing in. i don't know why i'm immune to it. the first warm bodies that stay standing get carried away. one tucked under each of my arms. they kick and claw at the air, hoping to hit me. these aren't my children. they don't want to be saved. 240822 what's it to you? who go blather from