right_here raze he's always trying to find me in his dreams, or else i'm leaving and he's trying to keep me in his line of sight. sometimes i'm a less evolved version of myself and i'm leaving in a different way, aging back into the dumb indifference of an old skin. in most of my dreams he's right there, but sometimes he isn't. and while i almost always have a phone with me, i can never remember his number. if i do stumble into punching in the right digits, i usually get a voicemail message. if i manage to get him on the phone, there's no guarantee he'll want to talk to me. there's a disconnect between the movies our sleeping minds make and the long film we're living through while we're awake. we keep searching for each other when we're both right here. 210919 ... raze he's been having those dreams again. in the last one, i called the house and said something in czech he couldn't understand. he asked me where i was. i wouldn't tell him. the mailbox was overflowing. a group of men stood on our porch. they said my name and read letters that weren't meant for their eyes. he pressed them for information. they either didn't know anything or they weren't willing to talk. he woke to what he thought was the sound of me crying out in pain. i was still asleep, silent but for the steady zephyr of my breathing, dreaming of renovations and the sky's shifting compass points. 220606 ... raze he looked for me in the park the_other_night after i went walking on my own. sniggies was with him. she was the cat he had to find a new home for when i was born and my mother decided she didn't want any animal in the house that carried more love in its heart than she held in hers. which ruled out just about anything capable of drawing breath. i wasn't anywhere. i told him that wouldn't happen. "i'll never walk without you," i said. 220615 what's it to you? who go blather from