Her brass in yellow gold; saffron-sense saturation but sumptuous, sensational this splendid statuesque stateliness now stood — her keenness contiguous sunken beneath smoothness were each quintet’s squad-segment aware; her heat » O, but lest she smouldered to his fingers, her heat arise of copper-gilding gingerbreads of fandangle-sizing embellishments, of fleurs-de-lis on every key — yet here she laid in her dormancy still, as such did he, when spurs in limbs graceful in proportion saw her surface; Kisaki found her in his eroticism indiscernible, surreptitiously and screened when sequestered hidden beneath the shallow bloodlessness – that of spread a tale of snow-white, unsubstantial winter’s flakes unto him. Minacious fingers had clutched 'pon her there; of her mellow aurulent and caramel carcass, her curve cut out of timbers told.
He’d breathe ‘pon her easy… follicles, his hair dithering, these were the shivering isles ‘pon which he staggered; palter would he furnished of his flesh abraded – bare, dishabille of habiliments but sparse his caparisons were; in form his velveteen gown seldom seen in sufficient days. Loose of the shoulders, threadbare and barren the rendezvous between a man and his machine proceeded but in guileful quiescence. He’d draw her in, digest her, fathom in to dearth the lungs of desiccation her concupiscent, erogenous salaciousness and swallow here her sudden nectar. Exile, but one threatened insinuate and chime through the cathedral’s halls, in their contemptible thoughts inharmonious to her concern; she exists of correspondence of his granting antithesis; symmetry she followed in arborescent sighs and ultimates of many of his forms. He was versed in her cogitating meditation, he knew of her obstinate and perennial love for him. It was of this, ‘I remember the little things you’ve done for me,’ when she sang for him in inflexible affairs the symphonies she was made love to with – the Renaissance she saw, Romanticism had she sighed… and here the Baroque in classic catastrophes was in woe and wretchedness etched on to her carcass, and effulgent of her reflection in her colossal pipes sat he; the scarlet show of sumptuousness, an incarnation of the one, he whom garnished now her sweet tempting tantalization in aphrodisiac, impassioned amour.
