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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