I bought my little bit of flesh to play with and took it home. I sat cross-legged on the floor of my house and prodded it, it didn't look at me - or move. Felt a light outside kill a bug, my eyes lit-up, killing 40 bugs, falling like little black pins on the floor (sandy needle clatter).
I began to shape the flesh, sculpting human shapes everyone could recognise. Slowly it took form. I bore deep pits for sad old eyes I could love. I crafted upwards (and outwards, respectively).
Crouched between her legs, when they were done, to concentrate on narrow caves, sneezed and wrecked them.
Gave her an inescapable desire to irritate and modeled her on all the popular women:
Ghandi, Lord Nelson, Elton John and Don Cheadle.
I finished her in 5 months, hadn't seen anything like her, I fucked her often,
In need of love and unlovable, no different to any other.
Whether you sculpt her yourself or leave it to someone else, you always have to hear the
toilet flush.
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