squint past the dim light was too much, cutting through the world. a threat, of sorts, or maybe a promise. 230623 ... raze when my body rouses me before the morning has been fully formed, i keep the roman blinds drawn as tight as i can against the orbs that send signals for my brain to convert into the raw footage of an unfinished film, letting in only enough of dawn's dull fury to guide me back to bed. 230625 what's it to you? who go blather from