that pink dress only gets worn in special occasions, mary lou anne! so lost here, in a crowd with my fingers crossed behind my back, talking to a wall of pictures --what she means is she's a queen of Chopins, the queen of *** covered mountaintops--
the hair dresser shall pin your hair up later at four, dearie. she says that he was a man a long time ago. mother mother, is lost in Kuwait. father father, is troubled with apple turnovers. if this isn't right, then nothing will ever feel right again.
madam, please stop fidgeting with your dress. a kiss has been seared onto her breast, making the tissues underneath smooth and strong.
darling, you look beautiful. but somehow she's been buried there, with her daughters, her sons, and 200 families. in a sundress by the beachside. she says the Ripper tore her ******* open a long time ago. music boxes tells her otherwise that in his arms there are no more pink tomorrows.