gleaming steady streams stuck out in the colors of people like lungs on the transplant board, shining like ambivalent madrass pockets basements covered in smoke rings. small children wince and wriggle as light electric orbs dance about their limbs. fainting featherweights fall victim to the flaming borders of wallpaper. plastic bricks are superglued to follicles on the outside gates attaching ghost screams to minds. hills are seen in the distance as lumps of golden saddle bags. left-leaning liars destroy chances of winning with cream soaked oars and wax make-up. The children laughed to near tears as their beloved soldier, the saw toothed donkey, crowned hero himself, sat back against the poison soaked embers of ancient torture struck suddenly still with deathlike stabs. The laughter of one, a female, overpowered the rest sucking most of the air out of the room with her curdled cackles. Drapped in dirty paisleys, she pretended not to notice their fear, but began to take full advantage of every drop, soon to destroy them in return. She cocked back her small neck, revealing her most evil mark, her most commanding thought and her nefarious transformation. Those that ran caught skin on nails and watering devices, which morphed into their scattered knees, splattering blood across the faces of remaining feeble tykes. Her cussing, hissing, pail breath slithered through their small group, shattered toe bones, taking jabs at hard flesh. Soon, with waves of fading consciousness, they arose to prepare a meal, whilst the whips of truck chains clambered among their tiny spines. Smells of wet stains, mildew, semen and pork filled their senses. A full steed of violent cowhounds drilled the cave-like doors. rodents attempting to leave were swallowed whole or tied to lower backs. dangling prosthetic limbs dropped through cracks in the oily, seeping ceiling. staples and torches were used to fuse them to preexisting carcasses and pulled apart bodies, still breathing, still standing. her transformation was truly remarkable lit softly by the fire light, as she frothed deep into open wounds. bubbles attached to sharp acidic frames of walls and vile heat never to dissipate, growing from within. horrid scowls detested the remaining innocents and hovered over calm, damp eyes as if made from sand. teeth jut through pastries, soups and bone, plastered with mold and disease laden bacterian fighters. the scarred mass of melding ooze went toward her pity, clasping small spoons eager for a bite or two for their suffering, heated by the glow of her orange peel-like skin. Bothered, she tossed a torpedo boot, high-heeled, through the mass destroying part of what will surely be her greatest creation. rage camped on her shoulders and pierced it like a broach as she clambered. the melted trough of life, death and other gathered its strength and plunged thousand of withered bone shavings into her thighs. the poisoned stilts of war dropped vigorous bomb upon her bed, while mouths were equally sewn shut. tiny dribbles of laughter etched their way from nestled seats and guided unearthly blows for their final bouts. It kept her alive at long last to maintain a reminder of when they were it and how to never go back. a year past before the half breeds returned with all their wolf like features and camped on a bridge. summoned by their laughter and her guidance, the patched goose necked gleam of the nearly immobile strong hold is soon darkened. one glimmer in her partially destroyed eye remains to thank them, as the summoned remember their love for their mother before her passing.