OUR BODIES. TERRITORIES CHAOTICALLY READY TO DRINK FROM THE BLOOD THAT FALLS FROM THE WOUND. IT'S OKAY TO GIVE MYSELF TO ENJOY THE THONG AND THE BOXER SHORTS. TO CROSS-DRESS MY DREAMS. TOUCH MY DESIRES. THERE IS NO SUCH VOID, IT IS FILLED WITH OUR CRITERIA (...).
DREAM OF TORNADOES. DREAM OF FIRE. DREAM OF A JUICY WORLD FOR OUR MYSTERIES. I'LL GIVE YOU A CAN OF BEER IN THE SQUARE ON SUNDAY AT SEVEN O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING, PLEASE DON'T MISS IT. RED DEVIL'S TAIL FLICKERING ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE. I SLIP INTO THE WET DREAMS OF OUR MEMORY.