we dream of angry welts and children with bitter skulls. I will have all of it, she said and shoveled handfuls of ripped nipples still sore and twitching from new born babies resilient and faithfully callous. and the men watched sipping martinis from a bygone age where they played the saxophone with hands twice the size of janitors and the girls sashayed across ballroom floors still slick with last night’s meal. he cooed into her ear, you should come here more often. she laughed, honey i cum whenever i please.