white_beach raze you were someone else twice before you were yourself, and then you were wearing red. your hair had just been washed. it didn't have the heart to hide your face, so it hung there looking indecisive, if hair can take on the expression of the face it falls around. you led me to the white beach, and then you were gone. there was water beyond the grains of mineral and rock. water no one would reach. and when i'd walked far enough to find you, you were half frozen, ice growing out of your face, a finger broken off above the knuckle. you didn't know me anymore. if i brought you back, you would never know me again. you wouldn't know your hands, or what they had been, or what they lacked now. i couldn't feel the cold you were in. it was the cold felt by someone who wants to be lost past the place where it means anything to be found. i turned around and retraced my steps through the river of sand, miles from the shore i was already standing on, leaving you to the snowless winter you'd built for yourself in the heart of the latest summer i'd ever known. 131216 what's it to you? who go blather from