snow_globe raze the transparent sphere that encased our city has splintered, taking with it all the oil that slowed our steps to sluggish swimming. when we were figurines in a winter nocturne, unseen hands shook our tiny frames and the architect of all our movement stood back to watch us fall apart. now our lives are strafed with flecks of white wonder beholden to no mercurial god. we are a blizzard in a film hemorrhaging colour. as the full spectrum of available light leans back into the frame, we see what we thought was snow was gold all along. we catch the flakes on our tongues and swallow what's precious to better learn the language of metallurgy. 211207 what's it to you? who go blather from