mock performance

I promised I would write a mock performance when I got back home this evening. I am back home now. This is a mock performance:

I am paraphrasing. My tulip is yours. My big fat beautiful tulip is yours.

She is standing on the left pulling something from within her breast, but it is not a tulip.

For you, for whenever you want to visit me.

She looks ahead, motionless.

For you, for not wanting to do this thing with me. I know why. I do not wonder why. Because you have seen it all, you have stayed far from home for a few days, you missed your mirror, the golden arcades of my nostrils, the feathers and dirty towels next to the sink. You have seen it all. The bang bung taratatzum, the here and there. And you do not want to be here, in this white space, full of bullshit. I know you, because you've seen it all.

Don't you see it, don't you see it, we have been lying, I scream. I have been lying to you and you have been lying to me. You want it now, you want it now and hard and hot.

Now Stephen comes in. He is AWWWesome, he is as AWWWesome as it ever gets. He wonders around the room, holding some paprika and three tulips.

Where did you find these? I ask, who gave you these?

I am not entirely sure, Stephen replies. I got them from within your breasts when you were sleeping. Noooo, I scream, you are lying, you have been lying all along.

This is crap, this is all crap. Go ahead and bite my nail. I have walked purposefully through parsnips, and, run past a rhododendron, I've even tiptoed around triffids. However I do nothing near tulips.

I hate it when you do this, I shout. It does not really fit in your hand. You might hold it, a little bit, but you won't hold it the way it's meant to be. Why? Because it's split up at the bottom. It might just about fit. It's split up in your hand. It just about stays in. Made in Taiwan. Does it pop? Oh, yes, it pops a little bit. Ohhh! Yeaaah! So that's it, a few of you a few of me lying and somehow never wondering why.

Stephen is clearly upset. She goes back to where she started and starts again.

I am paraphrasing. My tulip is yours.