Southern Shit

"Look at her now!"

Grey winged doves cry upon my cheeks while I am dying the death of self esteem. I am nightmarish hallucinatory evidence staring at a body blown out of proportion. Residuary emotion is a woman unknown to me however Kevinya euthanizes eerie recognition. Bourbon liquor layers into sad marijuana trees slipping across my chest mocking amateur livelihood.

"Ambrosia you don't know how it feels when they look at me."

"I will do it with you."

Dolls crack veneer for me as I walk to turn almighty morphine tendencies not to give a fuck. This dress with fantastic cultural social disgraceful signature aches through my veins; I solemnly believe woven eyes disassemble me. My companion breaks a mirror with his right palm while I watch him curse a wall into pieces. My twin is the only other of me that will undergo our deciduous torture however we will not show our face; Gemini will perform as usual. Amber does not return until I vomit; he pulls my hair back from a purse I found in between the aisles, we leave it full of blood and codeine tablets.

"Mikel.....Mickey! Mickey no more I don't even understand what you are talking about....."

"Listen to me! You do this for us and nobody else. Let them eat but they will not swallow. Do you understand?"

"Yes.....but......"

"But what?"

"I will get you for this."

French lace hooped into a thread for the stand I am; grandfather clock is ready for a casket. White pointed derby over the right eye auctions for myself a garment; I am undressing while nobody is watching, she is talking and finalizing.

"I need her to come with me."

"She is not included!"

Mikel is a stained glass window guarding me with angels; too bad for pictures.

"Please.....they will not handle it correctly and I adore the way you pose."

I whisper inside the ear of his shoulder; we are guilty of being a lovebird cuddle.

"I'm not wearing any fucking make up. The veil.....I was just going to take the fucking thing off and run like bloody hell."

"You were going to do that to me?"

"Shit."

"She will go with you until the evening. I will come for her."

"Mikel....."

"You bit me."

"You taste like whiskey."

"You bit me!"

"Say it louder so the lady can hear you."

"She bit me!"

"I like her."

"I'm coming. Bye Mickey....."

Blow kisses....blow kisses....satisfied.

Whomever speaking does not know me enough to converse a stammer worth of words. She confesses to being an unbearably voluptuous chest, I suggest the unspoken, insecurity is a plague; a woman passes by me choking cookie laughter spitting unfamiliar derogatory phrases. I ask for a name; nobody is there.

"You are going to take a picture of me?"

"Yes...."

"Who is it for Cindy?"

"You'll see."

Posing is indicative of how this intricately detailed poisonous flower tickles my thigh to ankle. This moment is without an introduction for either of us; we are not what we seem. My physicality is twitching a set of dead rivers drying to a swell. I need to leave else I am without excuse for my behavior.

"You dropped something."

"Yeah."

"Morphine."

"Yes ma'am I need to go now, my friend is waiting."

"You're crying."

"What color is it?"

"Clear....."

"Okay I got to go."

My legs formed a bow similar to warrior tales of arrows. Braid assures me the nylon string tied around my big toe to hip swing waist springs tense attention. We will position ourselves at the foot of a hill while my appendage works to our advantage. Boat masters nit pick fish.

"Stay still."

"Only cause it's important!"

Kevinya writes an extensive thank you letter to an unnamed deadly virtue. Brad and Cindy manage to obtain the original for copy.

I would personally express my emotion however I am frightened of you. I will leave this letter by whichever bed wherever I think I am; I know you will read it.

"What does he look like now?"

"After what happened I don't know if he will ever recover."

"I never saw him look so disappointed not at us but at himself. I do not understand. Chester kept going on and on about something....."

My relationship with Ophelia is a terminal exert from a play; I portray a role but I am not an inspiration for the plot. I will contribute to a moral but I admit to feeling immoral upon seeing her again.

"Don't tell her I said this but I don't want to do it again."

"Did you hear that Mom?"

"If you grow I will speak with you in depth."

"If I grow?"

"Yes."

"Would you recognize me if I was your size?"

"I refuse."

"Listen to me! It's just a bustier made out of spears."

"What the fuck is a bustier?"

"You will know after you wear it."

"I do want to find out."

"I know you do. I made it for you."

"It looks dangerous."

"Fashion is a thrilling adventure."

"If you sit on it after we're done I'll wear it."

"Do I get to wear pants?"

"No."

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Whenever I wake up and am able to function somewhat reasonably I will be at her side.

Unnamed angry woman with television situation comedy hairstyle, I do hope you realize I am a fucking bitch.

"This fucking hurts my god damn ass!"

"What if I had knockers!"

"We got them Vic."

Kev, when you come back will you feel me up? I need a test run.

Lia, only if you're naked.

Kev, how else?

Wife, I read the letters.

Husband, I knew you would.

Wife, tell him to send me an in depth description.

Husband, find out for your self.

Wife & Husband, I am much obliged to desecrate the sanctity of marriage.

"He's just a friend; why are you looking at me like that?"