A Modest Plea to P.B.T*
Ruth!
I feel it time we both came clean in one mighty exfoliation of the soul, unmask our heart’s visage, and let our true Passions for each other collide into a fiery Apocalypse of love!
TO wit:
It is imperative that you attend the magnificent ritual known as P.B.T: the Coupling, so that I may reify my perfervid Passion through the rhythmic gyrations and systolic palpitations known as: the Dance.
I must exonerate myself of any slight I may have caused by the seductively silky, yet entirely masculine, parameters of my caress. Let me lull all your cares and worries and extrapolate all your torrid ambitions!
No! No! We must set aside our differences and injurious behaviors (born no doubt of our mutual suppressed Passion which stings us so) and parley our sexual duel through the wondrous raptures and endless pleasures of the Dance!
Come! We must ply our savage game of tease and taunt no more. Let us be taken up together into the heady rushing wind of revelry, and in that place, disgorge our flaming hearts—consumed with the same-sick desire!
Come sweet Tricky, concupiscence is no crime with us!
Please arrive promptly at nine, tonight, on the Balcony of Dreams, in whatever attire you deem necessary. Eighties power ballads, boogie, ghetto love, and Passion to ensue.
Your Guillermo,**
P.S. Reow!
*Personal Boogie Time
** Macey, The Progenitor
Copyright 2008, The Progenitor
