She held my hands
rested on my scaly arm
and we watched the planes tear up the sky.
She told me over milkshakes
"Your swollen eyeball
is your least attractive feature."
She bought a carton of beer
and we spent the rest of the day in bed
cartoons and kissing deeper and deeper.
She says she's fat and ugly
naturally assuming that everyone agrees
so i reassure her at once
"I'm the only one who can truly see your beauty."
She doesn't trust my pale blue eyes
far enough to see that her sweet face
is my life support addiction.
She takes me shopping
for a new black dress for christmas
flatly refusing to design my outfit.
2007
So I recently promoted myself to the position of Intelligence Officer with ASIO's Infernal Affairs Division. I chose to bypass the normal recruitment process due to concerns that my horns might have blown my cover. Ironic, when you consider that my extensive experience in politics, diplomacy and lies, would have immediately positioned me as an ideal candidate for employment. Turns our the salary package is non-existent but I'm not in it for the money. Even at this early stage, I've been outfitted with detailed dossiers on a number of targets for surveillance and placed in charge of my own field office in AdelHades. I get to choose my own stationary, tell lies about my neighbours and have even replaced the fluoros in my office with black candles. After years spent pretending to push paper at Centrelink, and even longer arresting invisible criminals for the Federal Police, I have my own office at Infernal Affairs. I'm writing this with a government issue laptop, a bag of ...
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