snowflake raze i don't think there are any good pictures of you. just the one i took when i was still a child — out of focus, but not so poorly framed that it can't cast a spell or two. you're curled into a soft curve on the coffee table. one eye open. blinking half the world away. your body buttressed by two cold coasters and a gold rotary phone. time keeps tearing pages from my scrapbook of memories. i won't let it take you away from me. i won't. 221227 what's it to you? who go blather from