Whisper, I want to be inside you, to your lover, when she is in the middle of a parent-teacher conference. Whisper, between your thighs I found blue lightning, to your lover, when she is driving in congested traffic on the highway. Whisper, your neck is my favorite unoccupied territory, to your lover, when she is doing taxes, or something else numerical and benumbing. Whisper countless unimaginable things to your lover on a daily basis. As an auxiliary component to this ritual, scream everything you whispered to your lover into a glass jar which you label Fruit Salad.
John Biscello 