i've got heat-seeking vision for the fire that burns around certain people's feet. i spend all afternoon baiting my friends for answers, things that could kill me. but when they leave, i still taste ashes between my teeth. they don't leave me clean. they don't make me clean. it's just this constant barking in my head--the only dog i've got, but i need him dead. i hold my hands beneath the blue morning and bury my friend, his body turned green. now the last time i'll see you, you'll be dressing in all green.