I perform home-surgery tracheotomies without anesthetic on unsuspecting inheritors. I bolt truth-sized holes through larynx and lie with a snap of my scorpion-tail tongue. My stiletto-like strikes are honed by a whetstone mind. I whisper throatseeker assurances that seek vulnerabilities. I lace my gums with the venom of dissonant nonchalance. Mostly, though, I keep my lips sewn shut with barb-wire discretion.

11:05 p.m. - 2015-02-03