I ll wall you up in a bee. Stay where you were, friend. Don t stroll over the abyss of my rights human fibers. Endure your crime. Young ladies in far-off lands wear high heels.
Man strokes a copper sphere.
Horses in the steppes would have their hooves wrapped in a layer of nylon. The nylon would be in my mothers flesh. I lifted the eastern edge of the table, to let the crumbs of bread roll toward the door. With my tongue, like a faithful, devoted dog, I lick Your golden head, reader. Horrible is my love.