They call me - Contessa
In my backyards and gardens where magic falls. We are all so unpredictable and charming. So devoted. We love - it. It is a strange creature that takes you for a walk in the middle of the night, with out asking destination or knowing it. IT. It is actually a killer but he works for me now. So that problem is no longer A problem. Even if it, that is that, is a whore. Lets just call it. IT.
So the journey of it is simple. It takes up everything and eats it up. It was never something special or social. It was possessive and hooked on speed - core. It as it was -is a pleasant manic. With difficulties that come in the game. We all play. So you see. It is hooked on caffeine, codeine and everything that can come in the same line of packing. Oh yes, and they call me contess'a. So contess'a has the it.
All that followed the beat. Nothing more nothing less. Don't forget the crossed legs and fingers. We use to play on the pictures of marry and the bible. The turn tables and darkened rooms. The smell of basements and deafening loud generated sounds. But you can't deny you past. Now it plays other games. As mentioned it became a killer. Makes other remedies and no longer looks up Marry. Still, when it hears the sound of . . . Oh dear. It just blows up. . .
The wonder. . . Silver lining. You see, there is no thing better then that. And definitely nothing is more tempting then it. So now - as the name is given and Queen bee had made her arrangements, IT can come out and play. It - is a signal. No judgment. Just works the way to the center between the lobes. It is lovely. NO mater what you change the IT with, IT always comes back. Sharp. Silver. Sometimes without a handle. Sometimes with different ammunition. IT knows... O, yes it does.
Just close your eyes and imagine. IT! Perfect. Flawless. Like a cave. The pulse. Like the feeling when fingers unwillingly bend backwards. Don't search for sense. Meaning. High education or energetic fields. IT is here. It has the power over you. IT! Prefect like sex. Like first kiss. Like that christmas present you where waiting for. . . all. . . year. . . long. IT! He is here for you. Like the look on the philosophy teachers face when he writes you an A+ and rises one eyebrow. That quoter smile. Yes. The moon and the stars. And all the pretty little horses. Unicorns and sluts in perfect used condition. Yes. It.
Can I tell YOU a secret?
Actually it is a - TRIGGER!
Be good, as mister twister Santa is coming for you.
Good night and god bless,