Little push little nudge. Over the cusp of black sea oblivion tanked and tainted with the Kraken of doom sayeth thee. You hold yourself, the mermaid maiden holds me, comforting sweet but dragged to the deep; suffocation, supplication, sublimation of the cuttlefish nation. The drowning girl of downing curls, prim and proper fair contrare. Hydrophilic, chocophobic, sexaholic sprawling leg splits. Inter enter this lavish maiden, return concern her dwindling light.
Eyes, the eyes, flashing brilliant supernovas collapsing into black holes, death spirals whirligig whirlygirl spin right round into cold shoulder cold night oblivion again. Oh such darkness, such unmitigated dread dredged up for dark poets’ fanciful fascination and frolicking fantasies. Can you not think of a woman happy and merry married to merry men quite contrary? Does the weeping woman satisfy your wants, curb your enthusiasm, appease your desire for yin yang unity. Crisitunity says the Homer in me, odyssey fondly epic struggle so timely always with me attraction deadly. Save me save me, maiden so waifly. Sensitive touch to pull us from the deep, hungry hippos at our feet, waiting gluttonously to sup on meat.
Wax and wane poetic, candle flicker, both ends on credit. Debts due death due, Dostoevsky debt and divorce on cue. Allen Poe lamenting and rubbing on my silky misery. Autoerotic fetish pervy purview stick my neck out for sinews. Wrap golden threads hued with lavish scents round the petty head. Get a turban for my gherkin to play the deviant to shreds. Shreds of cloth, little strings push and pull apart my arms and legs. Madly mannish marionette speaking hush words of former dread.