100 Words - Pernicious Pleasure

It's been a week and a half of long days. And by long I mean finally having my brain to myself for the first time in the day sometime between midnight and 1:00 a.m. Someone needs to send me a one-way ticket to Europe, with a year of spending money. I don't need much, just enough to rent a small apartment, fresh flowers on the daily, and pocket money for gelato and fresh food from open markets.

That, or a clone. One of those, but I think the ticket and wad of cash will probably fit better in my stocking and not break any laws -- public or moral.

During my absence from VV I worked a ton, that's a given, and also spent countless hours in a comic Sisyphean stand-off with the RMV over proof of signature for my daughter. The story is not worth going into, but I assure you that the rule-makers for the RMV are patently insane or sadistic. Probably both.

My pick from the last challenge is from newcomer "Anthropology and Poetry". I have been enjoying the sparse simplicity of the blog design and font, contrasted by words that slash and burn and sink and soar, all with startling efficiency.

Pernicious Pleasure

"Woman is like a fruit which will only yield its fragrance when rubbed by the hand…If you do not animate her with your frolics and kisses, with nibbling of her thighs and close embraces, you will not obtain what you desire…” The Perfumed Garden, 1886

Languid, lengthy, lusty language that coasts along the tips of tongues and drips across the lips like liquid chocolate.

Lie to me. She doesn’t matter— There’s only you.

Lace me with words and verbs of what you want to do to me, with me, for me.

Languish me with words, adverbs of how, where, and why.

Lure me with luscious language! “Você é linda, meu amor… olhos, peitos,…labios…”

Love me; lay with me— there’s only us, us and this pleasingly powerful but pervasive emotion that fills the darkest corners of the most private parts with fire—but… it isn’t right.

That brings us to the new challenge. I've been reading a darkly divine little gem I stumbled across recently, Blame by Michelle Huneven. The word for this week is:

UNSEEMLY