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'the love instinct is so exceptional in order to overcome such cultural reactions as shame, disgust, horror, and pain'.
never into greasy gratuities or one night cemeteries. rotting flowers usually hint to a lover's state as well, although some people are exclusively into ' porking the bone '. i would try to revive you with a strange electrical device. if this failed i would build an elaborate above ground burial vault specially constructed phones communicating with your creaky silence. i would live quietly too for several years, reading Lautreamont and/or Ducasse, smoking a pipe, and playing Duran Duran on a pipe organ i'd have built. until some morbid curiosity seekers would reveal you as missing from your tomb. you are found reclining on a large canopy bed curtained with cheesecloth. your face, breasts, arms and legs reconstructed. fashioned with a vaginal apparatus complete with gleaming rubber tube. i will rebuild the lost parts, bandage the broken parts and the destroyed parts which have to come out i will replace. i pit in sufficient absorbent material for packing to soak sleeping beauty in solutions feeding you, develop the tissues. my airship completed carries us both high into the stratosphere, so that radiation from outer space will penetrate you, restoring life to your somnolent form.
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