Thursday, December 21, 2006

Lil' Copenhagen's skin's so luminous & buttermilky I half expect daffodils to issue from it come spring. This plus the obscene 3-tone Blue Razzberry irises he's got, plus the bolts of rosy apricot blushery whenever he's chilly or even halfway excited about something, plus the artificially black hair, equals a boy of almost lurid coloration, and it makes everyone else look like gruel of no particular shade. It's ironic, given his loathing of the tropics, what a supersaturated bird-of-paradise thing he is, and I've not even attempted to describe the pink of his mouth (decency stops me). And do you know what this asshole applies to his cuts 'n' puncture wounds, for its natural antiseptic and healing powers? Motherfucking honey! Rubs it in. To an overactive imagination like mine, this means that his very blood is literally sugared, his sweat! I don't know which I want to be more, his toothbrush or his toothpaste. To slip between his teeth, or to slide, as a liquid, over his tongue?


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