"Oh, you humour me today."
He has always known how to tickle her bones and fancies. His limericks of love until her sight sees grey. His proclamations of lust even when her beauty turns pale. When he makes her laugh, canned laughters of helium and mirth - just burst, burst, and burst. 'Til her mandibles and stomach hurt.
Being enamoured through his quirks and foibles was like luridly touching felt finish for her: emollient and nearly addicting. Or like suddenly receiving a snail mail on a cumulus cloudy day: old-fashioned yet overly gratifying. He has never failed to amuse her. He shall always be her jester-in-disguise.
A dandy seventieth month of love from me to you,
my loverly Der Rosenkavalier.
Author
Eяin Heяoin
5 comments
@Eternal Wanderer:
YES! Mr. Strauss, it is! And uh, what it is your name, please? :)
@Manech:
Hee, thanks. :)
YES! Mr. Strauss, it is! And uh, what it is your name, please? :)
@Manech:
Hee, thanks. :)
Loved reading this, thanks
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Merely Merriments
"Oh, you humour me today."
He has always known how to tickle her bones and fancies. His limericks of love until her sight sees grey. His proclamations of lust even when her beauty turns pale. When he makes her laugh, canned laughters of helium and mirth - just burst, burst, and burst. 'Til her mandibles and stomach hurt.
Being enamoured through his quirks and foibles was like luridly touching felt finish for her: emollient and nearly addicting. Or like suddenly receiving a snail mail on a cumulus cloudy day: old-fashioned yet overly gratifying. He has never failed to amuse her. He shall always be her jester-in-disguise.
A dandy seventieth month of love from me to you,
my loverly Der Rosenkavalier.
He has always known how to tickle her bones and fancies. His limericks of love until her sight sees grey. His proclamations of lust even when her beauty turns pale. When he makes her laugh, canned laughters of helium and mirth - just burst, burst, and burst. 'Til her mandibles and stomach hurt.
Being enamoured through his quirks and foibles was like luridly touching felt finish for her: emollient and nearly addicting. Or like suddenly receiving a snail mail on a cumulus cloudy day: old-fashioned yet overly gratifying. He has never failed to amuse her. He shall always be her jester-in-disguise.
A dandy seventieth month of love from me to you,
my loverly Der Rosenkavalier.
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Born in the mid-80s, Erin Herøin is a marveller of non-sequitur writing, cinematic films, & analogue photography.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
naks, how very richard strauss ;)
ReplyDeletecongrats, basterda. :)
ReplyDelete@Eternal Wanderer:
ReplyDeleteYES! Mr. Strauss, it is! And uh, what it is your name, please? :)
@Manech:
Hee, thanks. :)
He misses making you smile/laugh.
ReplyDeleteLoved reading this, thanks
ReplyDelete