octopi have no trace of a shell, the evolutionary equivilent of throwing matches at the night sky, streaking then diminishing. the biological equivilent to my impact on your life. & i'm tinkerbelle- i must drink the poison. i keep looking for names hidden in the filgree on the back of bicycle playing cards. i'm a trilobite i'm a boy in a mosque in a hospital gown. i'm dragging an anvil to the bottom of the bay.