unwound raze insects sweep the side streets of some unfortunate animal's carcass in search of something sweet. only bone remains. a voice bereft of breath tells you: tibia of rabbit. the rest stripped and stolen by a bird of prey. you walk wounded to the other side of the fence, dreading whatever carnage lies in wait. all you find are flowers. so many of them fallen and curled into cones. this is what your eyes mistook for the torn-out tissue of a friend: one wild white waif pricked with pink. you dig your great mistake out of the dirt and ease it into the moist marrow of your mouth. it tastes like time unwinding. you swallow what you cannot keep and dare it to defeat you. 250802 what's it to you? who go blather from