Let's go to bad movie, where they have a lot of fog, people walking around in the fog, and the men cry. In that theater we'll be alone together
But you're still trying to remember what you have to tell you master
while I'm trying to pretend again like play house with my Hungarian friends after school and I'm the mammy and the waif, safe symbol, sex symbol, schoolgirl, father, mother, dancer, babe, grand scheme-- I'm everyone in the family, like meek smiles that hide their meekness like men like it.... sike... tripartite psych moves... I'm not even trying I just have all his dreams for him and wake up two times a day, feeling mighty fine, and feeling fine is alarming, binary, the grind and the grind and grenadine... repetition til the seams blend... do you mean it... or is it just part of this prolonged preemptive accusation that begins with I will not be tortured, I will not be punished I will not be guilty, and never ends?
