Whiskers

Oh bloody hell I am now releasing the words for her wishes; I am a sucker without fangs for her batty cuteness. That dimple on the left cheek is passionate murder.

When inside of my beautiful the light which may of been a room circumvents the dome of my godless cathedral while I can barely recite the hymn. Blood I thought might of been my brain mysteriously vanishes as my concentration is heavenly without angels to paint.

"Whose lingerie is this? I would never wear this. If not for Victoria, where does it come from? It's not pink, it's not wine, it's not black, it's not violet, it's not mine!"

"The bed of your ring."

"My ring is somewhere I misplaced as memory. There is a ring for me?"

"She wears it..."

"Who is she?"

"You should meet her; she thinks of you always."

"I think I am in love."

"Us too..."

"What does she look like?"

"She's terribly cute and a wicked flirtatious fallen angel."

"Really.....tell me more......."

"Curly hair in spirals to the dip on her back, shy as demons, milk chocolate eyes, lips cupid kisses, a nose the arrow missed, a smile like the eclipse of the sun, a body similar to an infant without wings yet sensually grown into the skin, she is what she is and we love her. We also hate for her; that's the big problem."

"I see...."

"Since we hate for her we get into a lot of trouble. There is no in between for her."

"I want her...."

"She is wary of you. You make her feel guilty as a criminal. She told us this...."

"I am not innocent. I will not admit to a crime."

"She does...."

"What would that be?"

"She admits to betraying her self."

"I betray her as my self."

"You both are in the same position."

"You say she is a flirt?"

"Terrible...."

"Example?"

"You will see for yourself."

"You would do anything for her?"

"Yes...."

"You do not even pause for the answer!"

"Yes...."

"I don't know if I would do anything at all for her."

"You will...."

"Why would I do that?"

"She has dimples....big ones....each side....terrible."

"Oh dear...."

"Cute...."

"Like a puppy?"

"Like a kitten...."

"I'm allergic to cats."

"Not this one; she purrs when she sleeps too."

"Ooooh that is bad...."

"She lays on her back with her arms crossed over her chest with her legs angled in the air curled into a ball; her eyes barely closed with her tongue between her lips. The incisors do enclose the gap, her hair is all around the face in fluffs of twirls while she vibrates a hum like a cub."

"Get rid of me."

"What?"

"You know...."

"No...."

"If I die is her body available?"

"That is all she is...."

"What do you mean?"

"She's all body...."

"She is without thought?"

"She thinks about her body."

"Who bids her speech and movement?"

"We will not allow it."

"Somebody is after her?"

"The rose...."

"She cares not for romantic gifts?"

"She is allergic to roses."

"So am I!"

"We do not want that to happen."

"Where do you keep her?"

"In a closet...."

"Literally?"

"One full of garments....she sleeps in the corner on a velvet crush puff."

"What color is it?"

"Royal purple...."

"She probably runs about when you are not looking."

"Yes...."

"What would you do if she never came back?"

"She comes back...."

"How is that?"

"That's where she naps and...."

"And what?"

"There are other things for her as well."

"Such as toys?"

"Yes...."

"What kind of toys?"

"There is a shirt from a man, a piece of string, organic catnip buds, and...."

"Please do tell...."

"Our guilty pleasure...."

"She is mine as well...."

"She will be tortured...."

"By whom?"

"The rose she will not take as a gift."

"What does she do with the roses?"

"She picks off the petals with a Russian gas mask."

"Then what?"

"She grinds it into a potion to use on her skin."

"Roses are a powerful and poisonous extract for potent fermentation."

"She is obsessed with her age."

"Dearest me...."

"She mixes it into a lather with plum wine, strawberry leaves, sage, soy bean paste, and pear grains."

"That is no toy for her.....what is the last you diverted my attention to address?"

"This...."

Spiked with platinum sharpened by whetstone teeth is an albino python collar made from actual scales; suppose the snake argued a bit too much with the handler else another methodical masculinity offed her.

"How did you get this?"

"They fought for her...."

"The snakes?"

"Yes...."

"Who won?"

"The one that disappeared."

"Where did she go?"

"Twas a he....where else?"

"What did she do while they were fighting?"

"She sat on the tree...."

"Naked...."

"Not at all she was fully dressed."

"How did she get there?"

"Uh...."

"Uh what...."

"We let her in the cage."

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"We took her to the zoo to see them and they all came out to stare."

"Then...."

"One thing led to another."

"What was she wearing?"

"Jeans and a hooded sweatshirt."

"Back to my original....what did she do while they were fighting?"

"The crocodile would not let her leave him."

"The crocodile?"

"That's enough we will see you later."

"When is later??"

"When you figure out what we did."

"Before you go...."

"The lingerie belongs to his virginity."

"Whose?"

"The shirt she sleeps with."

"Does she know?"

"You must tell her...."

"If such a flirt then why would this matter?"

"You will see...."

"She will be tortured immensely."

"Yes...."

"Where will you be?"

"In the same position."

"All of you punished?"

"Yes...."

"Will it be worth it?"

"Yes...."

"What of me?"

"You will be tortured when you see what they do to her."

"She will be misery for you."

"She will be misery for everyone."

"I will be misery as well."

I am misery; I cannot fulfill her wishes of descriptive experience. Surprisingly enough she is not disappointed about the shirt; she is disappointed about the lingerie. This I find humorous as we explore the depths of her kitty closet.