welfare raze she tells me all about the restaurant she loved before it lost its soul. i've known places like that. i know, too, how to move a microphone around to find the sweet spot so a violin winds up sounding bigger than its body. i just can't seem to synchronize the audio track with the film i haven't made yet in my mind. i ask if she wants to hear the aria thrumming in my ears, heavy with hiss. i reach for a pair of headphones. its cable is too short to be of any use. there are others on the floor, black and broken. i sing what i can't seem to share in its purest form, asking after the welfare of an animal who is soft in all the places i am not. i wait for her to answer when my back is turned. 250301 what's it to you? who go blather from