50. Persimmon Permissive

The things I do with my spare time!

Andante con moto, with motion mortal I walk, running inside, trying to catch up with myself.

Can't keep up.

Brain travels at the speed of light while the body slows to a crawl, approaching the event horizon of a black hole, I might catch myself falling behind.

Sneggidy sloop group.

Continuwinding myself up into a heloid multiplex travercasmic voltaric nucleon.

Did you catch that? Should I throw it again?

Don't blink. I might wink, and that could cast you into oblivionville, not the coolest place in the hipster univoid multiverse.

Sabrina winkles her gigglegob, casts a spell on your inexhibitionist host. I disappear.

(I'm right behind you.)

Don't look. I might blink again. I've become that black hole with the irresistible attraction, and your inaction draws you to my horizontal horizon, that a dark sensification of nocturnal sensuality, the soft, gooey ooze that coats your skin unlocking the riches from your rigid britches in a warm crimson glow of ecstatic release.

Purlease!

I won't let you off that easily, Weasley. The spell hasn't expired, even after the hairy toad turns bald. The disfiguration of contiguity teases serenity into submission.

Supplicate to thy Goddess, you breathin' heathen rolling on the heather heath, stay away from the peat.

Complete.

Compete? You can't. I hold all the cards. Your cards in my clutches, imprinted in my all-knowing brainialistic repletism.

You missed the ball, thrown from behind, rolling out from antiquity, home to Nome where it's cold most of the time, drink wine to pass the time until the Blarney stone hovers over Ireland and purges the world of persimmons.

(I don't trust them.)

Thrust yourself into my warm blossom, bosom of dream creme whipping you tender, tenderizing you whippersnapper, snapping my whip, sinking the ship that sings in my shallow harbor.

Survivor of the surge, purge your impurities, and litter the heavens with them, in a nebulic dust of eventide, even if you can't see it.

Be it.

My spell dwells, I claim you, fair one, farewell. Swell.

That's what she said!

What she demanded. Submit. Permit.

Forgive this intrusion.