pulsing raze some_small_joke inked in red on an index card has spun itself into a spell. the love it's summoned comes with a catch. dark spirits mark the margins of her life. the only way to purge her home of their presence is to sour this strange sorcery. she chooses to go on being haunted. i prepare a plate for us to share. apple slices misted with sweet white syrup. a straight-edged blade to pierce each portion. she's the wolf who licks the veil that vivisects the heat that seethes between us. i palm the soft bowl of her skull to feel her heart beat through the back of her head. she bares her teeth and howls at a moon of her own making. our frantic night of the soul is in full swing. 260318 what's it to you? who go blather from