tortuous who else writes this kind of junk she opened her mouth to laugh and a filth of flies fell out they were dying, she could tell by the way they wriggled around rolling about in their dark songs humming strange nursery style rhymes it made her cry to witness this for in a dream once she thought they were not buzzing black but a book of bold butterfly_kisses swimming over her pinned tongue turned in reverse motion flying away from her lips back to their places of birth the flowers, their countries of origin bearing bright and cheerful gifts summer whispers of blue lobelia nectar 040212 ...   from my hunger, prepare a banquet which i can only watch others consume ungratefully from my thirst, draw forth an ocean, and salt it with silences until i cannot drink from my desire, summon only mirages within my reach... tell me of the scenes you've played with other actors while reminding me that i am not welcome on the stage and let my hopes be like a carrot on the end of a stick, and i the mule who follows it, too much the fool to quit the chase you do it because you can 040212 what's it to you? who go blather from