will you listen? (bismarck, will you listen?) please hear me and
heed what it is i have to say, this time. i will speak before you return
to this corner with your fist-shaking, your first-rate abstracts. you
speculate silently, now that the pretty has rolled away and a cave is
what we see, that i am less than ready for the juices from within your
skin. dream on, lover. when you bleed, i will follow the river of it to find
your pulp. with a sneeze i will wipe such snot away and sit with you
till you heal or die. when blindness strikes i will hide your socks and
tease you mercilessly. and i shall feed you and kiss your mouth clean.
i will cajole pestilence and cheat her away from you for as long as i have
whiles; they are numberless. they are me, uninterrupted. the beauty
of death will never come between us. this is the truth of black. i shall
never punish you with my silence because i respect your loving smile.
but do not think the patent on devastation belongs to you. night
follows all our days until dawn. your suffering equips me and i have a
lionheart like you. just like you. this is my gift and it is my curse i gift.
tell him, bismarck...
underneath its hair, a zebra's skin is black.
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