dear blog crush...

reading your blog is like engaging in an optical orgasm of literal imagery, casting quivers of yearning across my experience. your metaphors are sensual and diaphanous, lace edged intent covering my consciousness like satin panties pulled close over pussy, bare of pubic hair. i luxuriate in the warmth of your tightly woven stories, your fantasies enfolding me in a cocoon of craving from which i later emerge, transformed from an insect empty of sensation to a butterfly who's wings are made more beautiful by the intense pigmentation of your emotions.

at times i find myself lingering within the libation of your imagination, sipping from your similes until i'm drunk on your liquered 'likes', laping up the remnants of your lush language of longing like an inebriated labrador looking for that last drop of elixir.

can i be intimate with your thoughts?

i would love to be intertwined with your mind in a bed of inspiration. i'd take your erect intellect between my eager efforts and milk it until it exploded, coating my cerebrum with the seed of your ideas. your ejaculation would only intensify the strength of my creative outpouring, taking me to heights of insight i've never known. afterwards we'd spoon, thoroughly exhausted after a night of nonstop intercourse between artistic intellects culminating in sheets drenched in brilliant concepts.

you know you want it, too.

so stop playin...