peanut raze something small and coarse burrowed into my back. it could have been a clipped fingernail. i haven't trimmed my talons since the last time one of them cracked. i slid one hand under the covers. made a fist around the culprit's throat. an oval seed still in its shell. roasted. unsalted. unbroken by the burden of my flesh-covered fuselage. i must not be the only wild thing that sleeps in this bed. 240122 what's it to you? who go blather from