skyscrapers raze frost shades the brambles, wild with something thick enough to climb, warmed by the river of what lives in our mouths. an edifice of breastbone and twine scrapes the sky, shaking loose shavings of coral and cloud. it rains down on us like living does. you catch a piece of something pure and put it in your mouth. i ask you what it tastes like. "everything," you say. 220210 what's it to you? who go blather from