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CHICKEN LITTLE So I lift your dress and kneel before your bruises-- each a corsage; plural, formal as a marriage-- thinking, this is how the story stiffed you. Acorn, my arse. It's my job to listen to the whole she-bang: the who did which to whom with what, and how the sky itself was gunning for you. Most of all I want to hear how everything seemed lost--how hard it hurt, how long, and where, precisely. Incidentally, you're more than averagely beautiful. I do believe you. You must name it, sweetie. It is only pain. Which isn't a punch-line in the therapeutic sense, but then we're archetypes, not Notting Hill neurotics. And besides, I mean to crack your pretty neck. I do the fox. It's nature.
Chicken Little.
Atkinson, Tiffany
CHICKEN LITTLE So I lift your dress and kneel before your bruises-- each a corsage; plural, formal as a marriage-- thinking, this is how the story stiffed you. Acorn, my arse. It's my job to listen to the whole she-bang: the who did which to whom with what, and how the sky itself was gunning for you. Most of all I want to hear how everything seemed lost--how hard it hurt, how long, and where, precisely. Incidentally, you're more than averagely beautiful. I do believe you. You must name it, sweetie. It is only pain. Which isn't a punch-line in the therapeutic sense, but then we're archetypes, not Notting Hill neurotics. And besides, I mean to crack your pretty neck. I do the fox. It's nature.