How can I help but use your eyes as a means for self-asphyxiation? Your beauty is multiplexed in contemplation of your multidimensional effervescence. In your absence I am forced into finding other forms of amusement while thinking about you. Your wonderfully bright soul keep the demons from torturing me. Entranced by the sweet harmony of your lips, I gaze beyond reason to find the oasis of your brilliant soul. Transistors bridge where your vanity would never go. I keep searching for you between the cushions. You ever remind me of the enigma of happy thoughts I once forgot. A starfish's lifelong hallucinations of gelatin pools and of actuaries floating upon the foam and reciprocal ohm. In your presence even my shadow acquires the sensation of touch. As the bliss slowly rises in my incandescent eluxulator, your mere presence has a euphoric effect upon me. I desire to see life through your hallucinations so that they massage my viscera into an eternal state of turgid flux. The elves that play in the toasters wash their drum sticks in honey and sing strikingly colored anthems in perfect harmonious pleasure.
