three_books raze one with your name burned into its back. one a thick hardcover with embossed white letters on the front, the ink inside a river of half-hearted hope kicking against the cruelty of an uncaring world. one a thin paperback. fifty-seven snapshots of a life still being lived, bulging with a bookmark that fell from the flesh of a waterfowl — a hollow shaft fringed with smoke that stung your lungs the day your heart broke and mended itself. all three slipped inside a tear-proof serape with four words tucked into the seam (our way of building a better goodbye). 220629 what's it to you? who go blather from