Sunday, September 16, 2007

Crudeness is my Bedfellow

Undying yet Unblemished
A fish doth swim it’s bucket
I think that I do but, O-
Goddammit- I- shit- fuck it!

I lay in the crows nest. A ship thinks to close in. Illusion, Illusion. It shall begin.

Onward to Battle,
O Soldiers of Light
Sweep the decks of carrion
What a glorious night

Or perhaps just a monotonous night.
More sounds of battle. Apparently this treasure seeker has better eyes than many. This means the noise will be longer but only die down to…


That smell. Familiar, but not. A distant, warped memory. Vague flashbacks and a strong stench of sweat, steel, womanhood… a tinge of pirate swill… a faint scent of…. Home?

Young Mistress? Abigail?


Her Embrace: Much larger than I remember. No longer merely reaches my thigh.

She is no longer a child.

Her scent, of course, belied she has had many Adult Adventures.

I am not here to judge.

I am Hanumasha and I will not fail.

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