Who knows what the heads contain as bodies swish and
coagulate on the money floor? Vapid thoughts licking at the sway of men that
only seem to be real.
 |
| 'Bodies swish and coagulate on the money floor.' |
It seems like rebellion, but humans of middling content are a lowly inexperienced consciousness despite their protestations.
And who am I to say? Except it feels like truth as I sit and
listen to their blab and bubber. It's all a blaah of wah wah sound, quivering
in the night.
I can feel the drip of water proceeding down my neck. I left the place and stood in the rain as the
others ran and hid.
Poo poo, they couldn't handle the pin pricks of reality.
This is the way things are: Bad Conscience.
I stifle laughter for this is it, a never ending high
heeled flirtation never to reach that clenched teeth terminus despite the
dreams and the innocent smiling that designates a distraction.
