supported raze the flowers came in clusters of two. they didn't open their eyes on the same day. but one always followed the other. i would watch them crane their necks so they could grow together and feel the same light fill them. the last pair lived longer than most. they held on for more than half a year. then they withered and died like everything does. stir-fried stalks and sallow skin. collars clipped with kitchen shears. now one blooming bud rises in their place, its face flush with the frail fear of learning how to stand without a thing to lean on. 230129 what's it to you? who go blather from