Well as I watched and listened to where sound went I didn't get closer to god
I became God
You have to be a hero my mother warned and then how do blacks show fear with love she asked I just laughed by example all the revolutionaries are perverts an excess of skill spent on imagination and sex is a million different demons clutching their shadows on the folk invisible a prolapsed dream
In the script they have me waiting at the top of the staircase in a red dress that is some days, green
for some punk who expects to impress me with diamonds when I love him for his demons
finally the way they
shine
