The griots and the girlish ghouls feigning stardust on the rule of law. Libel can't touch the smile. Inches, meters, cubic yards, measuring her beauty in scars. The characters inhabit souls, masks are just the outer shell. The length the storyteller will go, there's miles between our hearts, then the distance suddenly collapses. Cue the choir. Remove the mask! The dawn is coming and we must go about our business.
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Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring...
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"Well...that was dramatic." I didn't know what he meant until I saw the ink spilled everywhere and the moths in her hair like ...