Don’t you worry


The Hourglass Nebula (MyCn18) is a young plane...

Chapter: Reich (2)

Time: MyCn 18.

Location: Plexus

:: Bubbles ::

“Close your eyes”

Something she had no problem with doing, and since the sun was coming up, it only aroused the idea of locking eyelids.

“You can’t sleep here” she said with her face half melted into the pillow. By this time her teeth had already became clamps for the pillow skin. Her fingers found solace within the pores of his back.
He didn’t bother responding to her, too much sweat tripping over his brows, and he wasn’t much of a sweet talker, as he was with his…….walking.

“You ca.. slee…h..er…e.” she half relied…

Got you.

Falling downwards beyond the dark matte glass walls, baby slipped into a pool of ecstasy.

“But I want you too…so bad” she shrieked in a voice so small and colourless, the mice gloated.

Sliding an index finger into her mouth along the lining of the gums, he treaded across her teeth..and pulled her Levanté Vinyl…brown face to his. Bit her lips, and told her in his oxidizing voice..

“I want you, I belong to you” …her thighs seemed to undulate under the ocean, which now puddled within her lap. The words were electric enough for her to sacrifice herself to this, apparent…demi…demi…demi…God..

The word “My…” seemed to accidentally fall off the shelf of her mind, and crack on the floor through her lips. Many of her muscles…electrocuted, by his impulse, let alone her synapses.
She died this morning; re-birthed into his universe.

My, my, Mumzie, how your little girl has grown up. You can feel it, so you called her cellular device. Unfortunately, it lay on the ground….next to her jeans.

They drifted away….and he carried her naked body to the Engraved Hourglass Nebula.
As she twitched, the dimples in her back seemed to squint.

“Lovely venom kids” he said to himself, tongue running on teeth.

-Richí

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About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
This entry was posted in Emissivity, Poetry, Short Stories and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Don’t you worry

  1. Pingback: Contemplari in Elegantia | Reflections

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