stained raze a honeyed smudge of sandstone, the colour of blood turned to soil, or rust trying to remember what it was before the rot set in. that's what my eyes tell me you are. you remind me of the metal barrels that lived rent-free in my grandmother's back yard when i was growing up. more iron oxide than carbon steel. whatever they held was toxic before i was born. i look at you and see a mayfly with one wing, fighting with everything you have to stay alive just a little longer, only to end up here on my white wall, a faded impression of yourself. new paint to cover the old. the ceiling fan makes you flutter and shows me what you really are. dust. but you won't blow away. 220111 what's it to you? who go blather from