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(For you, melanoma is not an option.) |
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For you, melanoma is not an option. Neither is swallowing Vegas's neon exoskeleton, getting a tribal tattoo across your bicep. You want a marble effigy: obviously, you don't share my sense of urgency. Sooner or later, I'll end up in a smooth, glossy version of a maple, while you'll be free to chase the pheromones of that cocktail waitress. I have a lead apron, rolls of blueprint paper, a cartographer on retainer. I cannot depend on a bodily resurrection, holy, zombie, or otherwise. What say you? I hate that phrase almost as much as I hate firing paintballs toward the sky and watching it refuse to change color. |
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