Points are excuses for inconclusive reasoning.

I had hair past my shoulders, I had a bottle bashed into my
head from 200 meters. before my face was covered red, I took
a shot of the guy. It was pretty.
a minute later, I was in flight, and my head was a red
fountain, and my hair a flow of fire and roses. it was
Beautiful. and No one took that shot.

weeks after, I printed it, half a face, diagnoally cut and
hidden by a fence, Black&white. perfect. weeks to follow, i
carried it with me, and occasionally when drunk, outside
clubs, late nights, I'd walk around and show people the
photo, and ask them if they seen him. I just had a thing or
two to say. thats all.


When they took out my kidney, it was colorful. It was
beatiful. But there was noone to take the shot.

I had fresh new scars to play with. And they made for boring
shots.

When I woke, the first thing i said was "Am I alive?"
Yes.
the second, was - "I'd like my kidney back, now."
and they laughed.

A week later a lady from the lab stole it from pathology for
me, after disection.
that Was a pretty shot.

But it's so much prettier in person.