to_dust tender_square drag your finger through the sloughed-off cells that line the lid, layers of you becoming anew. whirl your whorls against the grain, snuggling skin into a blanket of dust. draw us, together, in two curved ears joined with a point—half you, half me— listen to the music we make before you conjure magic through an ivory touch. even when you clear away those microscopic motes, our heart remains; the oil from your skin lacquers the wood preserving us forever in polish. 220204 what's it to you? who go blather from