water_damaged_letter raze some people pay good money for what the flood did to me. distortion and degradation. black ink made blue. pages fused together. phrases lost or transferred from one surface to another, ghosted into the thinnest breath of their bolder selves. not given. taken. solvents and fatty acids robbed of their permanence. brought to their knees. the same way desire or devotion brought me here. the magma made the rock, but the groundwater made me. maybe all we are is vapour drawings. continental drift kissing the hydrosphere. this brass tube with its flared bell will go on weeping long after my eyes have nothing more to give, and the objects in my mind may be smaller than they appear, but they're mine. all mine. 220208 what's it to you? who go blather from