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butterfly
god made man from dust,  and man responded with  sin & lust !
mercutio may be 6 ft but if you invite him anywhere even mildly formal he *will* show up in 4-6 in. stilettosÂ
BROOKE
               to   crossroad   keeper   of   SATIN    &    SMOKE  :         anticipate   our   arrival  sooner   than   later     /     identify   us   by   brazen   glare   of   tomorrowâs   gauds    &    what  clings   of   yesterdayâs   clinquancy .       after   all ,    only   those   rare   shades   BESOTTED   BY   BLATANCY   defy   description    &    escape   concrete   prison   of   a   name .       â    then   donât  do   denim  on  denim .    â       idleness   breeds   false   idols    /    i   hold   power  between   my   teeth .      â    you'll   thank   me   later ,      when   pictures   end   up   on   instagram.    âÂ
     head falls back in LOUD LAUGHTER ! of course, he agrees ââ ââ donât tell i said this, else my crucified body the next DEMARCO ALBUM COVER, but ââ  as quickly as it came, levity vanishes. too boring, heâd exclaim, to drudge along the same tone. not to mention, his next words demand the UTMOST confidentiality.  ââ the late eighties were such FUNERALS of years.  ââ manicured hand placed over heart in earnest mourn. Â

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NPC SERIES â 001
 CLEMENTINE MADEY former lover & mother of child
       women that find sorry way into escalus household rarely make it out unscathed. take mother, for example. young age of nineteen saw child bred & born. thus it was no surprise when  sympathy  cross coast erupted at sight of  CLEMENTINE.  poor clementine!  sweet & bright like florida  home. clementine, who fled restrictive middle class family for west coast art school. she stumbled into a storm. verona beach was never meant for outsiders, for the soft, the shining. but how picturesque!  mansions wedged between dive bars & skeezy gas stations. donât forget beach, either. beach all too grey & rocky to belong to such a vibrant city. summertime joy overwhelmed with new sights & smells. alone, though. all alone.
      mercutio had a talent for finding the lost, the excited & scared. politicianâs blood.  none are surprised when grin greets sunny girl. reporters question whether this has to do with recent falling out between boyfriend & self. ( it does ) but deeper feelings develop. mercutio appreciates rebellious streak amongst domestic & delicate disposition. escalus family approves. that is, until her sudden disappearance. nearly a year later mercutio emerges a hero, having âadoptedâ  a baby (entirely for PR purpose, distraction from cousin parisâs pursuit of underaged capulet) named âmercedesâ, who would possess same artistic skill  & wanderlust as mother clementine. Â
#NEWYORKGLOW by Xavier Portela
In the words of the artist:
Since I started the Glow series I wanted to add one of my favorite city in the world: New York. After Tokyo and Bangkok here is New York Glow, showcasing night photographs from Times . Glow is an ongoing project feel free to check the complete series on my website.
     legs  lay  crossed  in  bare  sand  ( to  hell  with  towels,  he  boastfully  called  before,  as  a  lavender  beach  towel,  embroidered  with  a  massive  gold  M,  blew  down  to  blue  waters ).  he  does  not  turn  nose  up  from  book,  perhaps  for  fear  that  any  movement  could  cause  massive  sunglasses,  perched  at  tip  of  nose,  to  make  like  beach  towel  and  end  in  the  sea.  ââ itâs  VITAL  to  remember  how  beautiful  we  areâŠ.  on  the  outside.  ââ
ââ â  are  you  in  love  with  yourself?  ââ
@webkilledâ | đâd
easter n april fools on the same day??? icb mercutio designed the liturgical calendarÂ
partyfoole â opulentfoole

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mercutio has definitely said âhold my drinkâ & benvolio, being the man that he is, took it for him, expecting merc to be back in fifteen minutes tops.Â
mercutio has definitely then re-appeared, hours later, to act as though nothing happened and reclaim his drink.
QUEEN MAB SPEECH
  ââ Oh, ââ laughter, then, falls light and short. ââ then, I see  Queen Mab hath been with you! ââ  he moves to rest against crimson carâs hood. how casual a visual, juxtaposed âgainst high walls and the ornate fixtures that ordain them! dark eyes close for mere moment as thoughts begin their race. ââ She- ââ he speaks slowly, and click of tongue is only giveaway mercutio's nonsense is born of the moment rather than some old TALE tossed among generations. ââ  is the faeriesâ midwife ââÂ
  he is not drunk, despite rumors that would spread of outburst. silence fills what his words do not. dreaming. to dream. to dream during the LIGHT of day, of a better life tucked  âneath matured age; of expensive coat soon to be laid  âcross chair & never picked again -- THESE were the dreams young men should grasp to. but a dream, birthed from an idle mind and spurring such ECSTASY to come? that is never to be listened.Â
  ââ & in this state she gallops, night by night, through lovers' brains, & then they dream of love ; on courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight; o'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; o'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, which oft the angry mab with blisters plagues, because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. ââ
 arms, no longer lanky with youth but TAUT with lean muscle, push off the machinery to gain momentum. his speech is FASTER , now, to keep up with racing ideas. this queen mab! heâd later critique mythical creature for its overbearing hold on their conversation.Â
  ââ sometime she driveth o'er a soldierâs NECK , &  then dreams he of cutting foreign  throats, ââ eyes ALIT with deeper fire, something burns within the mind of dear mercutio. ââ & being  thus  frighted swears a  prayer  or two & sleeps again. ââ he must FIGHT for grasp on mirth. NONSENSE! breaths come in ragged breaks. Â
  ââ this is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, that presses them & learns them first to bear, making them women of good carriage. ââ distaste DRIPS from language. lights are too bright! a fist pumps in the air. he SHOUTS !
ââ This is sheâ ââÂ
   eyes cut to romeo, the first to speak.  hand extends to reassure, a gentle press on shoulder. far quieter. ââ â true, I talk of  dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy, ââ
      criticism is NOT well taken.  â youâre CRUCIFYING me ! â a practical SHRIEK ! & onlookers from all sides turn to gaze at dramatic sight: young man, clad solely in dark, gaudy sweater + shorts - so short one could barely call them clothing at all, with a manicured hand draped, limp, âcross forehead. trained posture nearly slumps over stairsâ railing. â not even PONTIOUS PILATE tortured so! â he just wants a mimosa, free of charge.Â
@hermaeth |Â đâd
i was fr sitting here, waiting on some millenial half-news network like v*ce or bu*zfee* to come through and interview mercutio for like a solid fifteen minutes
                  but heâs not realÂ
âHe looked like a corrupt angel - almost preternaturally handsome but with a louche quality that hinted at unspoken depravity. He was an unforgettable, if unnerving, face that lent itself to being cast as sadists, cannibals and, indeed, Lucifer.â
â The Daily Telegraph on Pierre ClĂ©menti, January 12, 2000

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How Gay Is That? Feat. Adam RipponÂ