I'm a Specialist in Hope and I'm Registered To Vote

Come into my barrio, we'll see if you can float.

An act in four plays:

She says wives shouldn't suffer for these things for which they suffer; for their diamonds bigger than a cyst. And I admit, party and money keep some girls in check and are you saying "what the fuck" yet? Because anyone with a conscience should be. And all I hear are echoes. Tell me truly: is your own marriage odds-on? Because, for all of your awful entitlement, you are awfully indebted. Como se dice gratis?

There are three kinds of "no" and four kinds of "oh my god" and five kinds of "yes" -- just ask the fiendiest of the fiends if you doubt the claim -- and you'll find him over there, admiring the teethmarks of time; planting seeds of regret that he will forget to harvest. His life is in drugs and rage and he hasn't slept in three days. He is still so young-looking but I remember when he was a boy.

The biggest egg he ever laid. I wonder if my feigned restrain crosses the blood barrier -- a thousand apologies, Pumpkin. I pretend to try to control myself but you're on the inside where my cover is blown. Let me lay it on you: in a passionate break, I begged for you. You are an ounce of trouble. You are three inches of love. You nosedive in me like a peregrine. You are safe and alive. And I can't remember a time when I didn't love you.

And you, Criminal. There is a bitter breed and they watch with bitter hearts but I've grown lengths and lengths and lengths of love since we started this thing out. I can still feel it when you lie but -- how do you say? There is no percentage in it. Briefly, I felt the motion of your skin in those fat blue serpent swells and it made me kind of dizzy and elemental, but in a good way. I felt you so much today.