but regardless of whether or not i change my name he’d never say the same. all i ever did was duplicate in a way that couldn’t be verified or reconstituted.. but i am still often rendered hopeless for days that cannot be. the years have passed and the sentences revealed i couldn’t spell soliloquy even though i could act one out. there’s nothing to equate the embarrassment i suffer to harassment when i’ve become employed as another’s jester. this time i’m assured it’s fair, but the wheels on the ground don’t roll that bus or reveal the bust in the limelight. even in daylight i pass as any other suburbanite even though dust storms conceal the cataracts from the lenses of those of us who can’t paint with the stars in any kind of light.
i still don’t shiver when my flesh is prickling, i only knew one person to ever tame a hyena. i can’t refer to the prince or princess like i can refer to the blankets or sheaths of the crop. it’s just a different language regardless of how it translates..