Thursday, December 1, 2011

Perfect Woman: Hsu Chi

Lanky and divine. Her lips ever-parted like a languorous fruit, ripened until splitting, threatens to swallow us into unseen constriction. Each eye-lash, a fluttering strand of Maybelline'd diatoms, spreading imperceptible dusts which, penetrating the pores of ones skin, imbue a temporary rapture of enslaving and manipulative intent.

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