By puppet@chickmail.com Date: 9 April 1999
coldcut harmony and she doesn’t know where it begins or if there is an end yesterday driving alone at dusk she felt his fingers caress her brain and locked her doors at the red light too late too late he’s next to her sweaty and fierce he drags it out like one of his menthols refreshing pleasure she is his third lung “never can say good.bye” collapsing