It's sort of springy today. I want to cavort and dance in the streets in a sundress, to see bitty little bunnies and lay still enough in the grass that they - in all their foolish new-life-ness - will hop closer than would be wise had I any mal-intent, and to plink fresh petals between my toes.
Also, I've come to terms with the inavailability of Imhotep's DNA. It's a big step for me. Sure, I still want it but concede defeat on this matter. This general path can wait a bit anyway. However, MEANWHILE, the G-rated kind of fleshly craving returns...
Seeking: some serious baby cheeks. I need to squish. Need. And probably nose-nuzzle a belly or two, if possible. Gleeful-abandon giggles: also very welcome. Today I desire going a step beyond Facial Contortionism for Stranger Babies...but I can never bring myself to be that disrespectful of people's space. My germs are unknown, and it's their eeto baby. Oh, cruel logical empathy.
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2 comments:
It's gotta be eeto, wight? I have to schedule some tarry time in Tarrytown. You might have to wash your hands a few times. Erin is a little weird about stranger germs...
I thought I had a handle on it but the 'eeto, wight?' just made something dance in my chest and there's no saying whether it was cardio or mammary. Or - heavens! - both.
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