My legs feels like teardrop-shaped metal straws, bendy and supple in that way that helps me leap and leap but still have a razor edge where my nylons would be sexy an edge that can cut a throat at "Ave," and be cleaned by "Maria" by the right lapping tongue what likes lapping copper red from shiny veiny aluminum, my lampreys generate electric porn and can fire cancer UV out of their glittering eyes, which is why I never look

I never look too closely,

the more I stare at such a femanical animal, the more it become human and lovely,

the more it becomes shivery icepick love,

the more it becomes death or die for.

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