scarring raze you walk across the tired tongue of a sad cafe and lead a group of strangers in an improvised dance. the clumsy choreography comes off somehow. later, alone in my room, i find your face in the blinking box that leers at me from the foot of my bed. on grass that's gone feral you stand and sing without parting your lips. you warp the most elusive four-letter word into a five-syllable battle cry, likening the object of your affection to a celestial being. we are landlocked and stiff-jawed. the closest we can come to touching the stars is when they're falling. and the atmosphere will eat up all that space dust in the blink of a waterlogged eye. late as it is in our lives, i long to know the child you were before you learned to make a scar a hidden thing. i give you all of mine to do with what you will. 260105 what's it to you? who go blather from