Adenium Erotica
In our deathless fairyland, my darling snowy dove, your rapturous body knows no bounds. /Dark drabble/
… hmmmwhy yesss! and this here is a daerk-lyght, satanic palace-theatre of nothingness, and the damnéd is bloody'd and taint'd, spilling ov'r to the brim & saturated-- with so many floods of vile, glass-rendered paperskinned monsturrrs from the void; much akin to massacre-tortured ghosts and long-suffer'd spectres belongin- to discordant offshore haunts undere the midnight-lit hallways of "yesterdawn" with the evil moon evil moon eeeevil mooooon. See, see! Cometh, glimpse the varieeeed countless fashions in which thy eyes twinkle-winkle-inkle! so dead (and) crystalline-azure in the ((absent)) candlelyght fyre—buuurning rose petals, charring siiickly-sallow pollen. T…-those eeeerie black-bruised twin blueberries lock'd 'way in Pandora-Ora's jar of antique feathery pillows and oddities! So full of everè-dreamlust… BABYkiller windows to é nightmarish underworld, in perilous toil to peer out that gossamer film. Gaze downwards, fair maiden of this 'ere personal Garden of eeeeEDEN, spiderlily-like digits a-clutchin' that tharr segment of parchmented article in thy pale-clothed lap—ooh silver-peach crescent nails dyed wyldflower blue, blue, blue, yellow, red; shavings of yorr pastelsticks stuck'd deep & well beneath. O sometime coming, it will do you plenty good, prettii little flaxen-haired moonchild, to count your "/7/" fingers. He with the razor-prickly fadin' grim crimson reaper-thingamajiggle will reeeeturn in a silent waltz to this antediluvian birdcage, laugh in quiet whispurrrs, ensnare thy golden strings o' hair, push you down on scabbed knees, nourish you with the astringent seeeeeds he himself sows, so you will swallow and drink down in mouthfuls. & sink & DROWN. he shall touchyoutouchyoutouchyou Caress You like a (-CHERUB-) DISgusting ANIMAL BIRD-CREATURE in so many places. How he reeks in rivulets of perfuméd ROSEWATER amongst the weak-faint SCENTS of blazed Inferno and Staticvolts… then… oh,oh,oh. Cut, cuuuut! Slice one morrrre of those lucky seven fiddlesticks. Purty gush of blood, he will run his slimy-smooth Devil tongue across its blood-slippery surface & bite down hard just once –CRUNCH!!– bones of sapphire diamond; then devour it in its entirety. And he will grin like some deceased blossom of a cherry tree, and he will murmur into your pale-pink shell,
"Pretty girl, you can still draw, can you not? Six fingers are enough, yesss?"