Her thoughts tumble over the edge, caught on stray limbs:
a smattering of nine-inch cocks, two disproportionate handfuls of breast, a deflated blowup doll.
Minced by four-inch heels, a scene arranges.
Cherry-red mouths open, eager to taste. Lipstick marks burn holes in streetwalker uniforms. The crowd watches Anorexic Girl fuck her fun-house mirror. On the banister, in the bathtub, strapped to a machine in front of the camera. In the light, she lights up. Ten plastic fingernails rake over another fleshy canvas.
She lays back.
A tight sparkling dress reveals convenient holes.
In dreams, Ma waves her lard-ass frying pan. “A little soap and water will get that stain right out!” She scrubs for years.
He still hasn't breached the epidermis.
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