Jazzmin Flush (76)

   
   "Jazzmin Flush (76)"   
   
   "Pseudo-Tramp!!!  Did you hear that Jazzmin?  Pseudo-Tramp!!!  I read a book by the scandalous, weirdo poet by that infectious name, and it sings and sounds nothing like you."  Thomas telepathically hitting her innermost tension amid the birthing scene,  where (talking brain) the best climax erupts with wonder, fatally--fatalists striking cerebral blows beyond the cranium; nevertheless--never abuse telepathy in a sinister sense lest your victim becomes so paralyzed that they then absorb your intangible movement of consciousness; plus, spirits, angels, demons, whatever may take pity on a semi-innocent soul shut down by the influence of adders, granting those cursed souls redemption.  "Are you getting this too Jazzmin?  Do you understand--we are totally intimate though no fluidic exchange.  You are not the Pseudo-Tramp.  You were forged by Spirit, and recline in absurdity, as if to outdo the Saints, and you do it, sometimes, very well.  So, of Heaven--give 'em stupefied hell.  I'm so sorry for blasphemy, but what am I but a boy in love with something too pure to touch?"