Review Summary: Kate Bush- wow
Her nimble lips, docile as can be, teeth as white as the sea's frothy transgressions. As these lips approach me, an innocent opening of love, I am eager and anxious to feel the magnificent bowels of this vessel, surely strong with magnificence as it sails these lusty, sparkling seas of wonder, surely she shall rock me, and I shall let go, and let her rock me as I may drown in these seas of surreal encroachment. Indeed, to be encroached is a wondrous feeling, not to become lazy, but to reap the benefits of your kindness, and let yourself become encroached, rocking down, sinking slowly into the bottomless seas, but this relaxes you even more, for the knowledge of the infinite rocking and jostling soothes and quiets your very soul. You let the Bush seep in, your heart to be contented surely. As you sink slowly down, you may find yourself in a lawn chair, with a margarita in hand, and the margarita slowly rising into your mouth without the effort of even lifting your arm in response. As you look far and wide, sharks drift here and there, whales scream with might, but your scream no scream, for you are dead already. Soon you may notice a drifting maiden coming with a basket of moist bread to comfort thy very soul, you shall receive it, and come unto her as joy endues your very heart, you leap subtly from your lawn chair to the maiden. She drifts away, but always remains the same distance from you. You struggle to keep up, but there is no keeping up, she is not moving. She opens those lips....one may think the very sea floor divides at the kiss of these, and gives me a piece of her voice, a song of things to come, and things that came, and things that are coming. And from her voice spills the stars, and the heavens, and her nose wrinkles with sheer pleasure, these stars an orgasm, a coming of love unto me. I drift, but she comes closer. My heart flutters. She smiles as her garments are removed by the whale's subtle brushing behind her. The whale catches our bodies, and we coalesce into a fountain of love in a fountain. This relaxes you, the fact that you are fire in fire, water in water. No air bubbles rise, because there are none. This sinks you deeper as you love burns bright. Her nose snarls like a mighty but kindly beast. Her bosom prods me and brushes against my heart. And her legs reveal themselves under the garment of the sea.
I wake up. My father says its time to leave the beach. I run to the sea and drown myself.
Her nimble lips, docile as can be, teeth as white as the sea's frothy transgressions. As these lips approach me, an innocent opening of love, I am eager and anxious to feel the magnificent bowels of this vessel, surely strong with magnificence as it sails these lusty, sparkling seas of wonder, surely she shall rock me, and I shall let go, and let her rock me as I may drown in these seas of surreal encroachment. Indeed, to be encroached is a wondrous feeling, not to become lazy, but to reap the benefits of your kindness, and let yourself become encroached, rocking down, sinking slowly into the bottomless seas, but this relaxes you even more, for the knowledge of the infinite rocking and jostling soothes and quiets your very soul. You let the Bush seep in, your heart to be contented surely. As you sink slowly down, you may find yourself in a lawn chair, with a margarita in hand, and the margarita slowly rising into your mouth without the effort of even lifting your arm in response. As you look far and wide, sharks drift here and there, whales scream with might, but your scream no scream, for you are dead already. Soon you may notice a drifting maiden coming with a basket of moist bread to comfort thy very soul, you shall receive it, and come unto her as joy endues your very heart, you leap subtly from your lawn chair to the maiden. She drifts away, but always remains the same distance from you. You struggle to keep up, but there is no keeping up, she is not moving. She opens those lips....one may think the very sea floor divides at the kiss of these, and gives me a piece of her voice, a song of things to come, and things that came, and things that are coming. And from her voice spills the stars, and the heavens, and her nose wrinkles with sheer pleasure, these stars an orgasm, a coming of love unto me. I drift, but she comes closer. My heart flutters. She smiles as her garments are removed by the whale's subtle brushing behind her. The whale catches our bodies, and we coalesce into a fountain of love in a fountain. This relaxes you, the fact that you are fire in fire, water in water. No air bubbles rise, because there are none. This sinks you deeper as you love burns bright. Her nose snarls like a mighty but kindly beast. Her bosom prods me and brushes against my heart. And her legs reveal themselves under the garment of the sea.
