Monday, January 30, 2006

i, succubus

Monday, January 30, 2006
here, under the forest carpet of stanley park. i bathe in the bubbling, molten hearth beneath the forest. i hang high above the forest floor tickling the moist, green-scented air. i hunt. i play the phantom trickster, tease, erotic seductress as i frolick about the forest in my own sweet, hazy mist.

i manage to snack along the way, having, fortunately, encountered many succulent males to nourish me. their taste reminds me of eating sweet, ripened plump pears. think of it. a tough but leathery skin encapsulating swwet, ivory coloured pulp. a fine, grainy pulp. glistening with clear juice. subtle. tangy. and a lick of the lips as the taste buds yearn for another taste.

well … the mortal world has metamorphosed into quite an interesting mosaic of large sprawling urban desert and imploding lush green jungle, since my last fling here, a few hundred years ago. those smelly, irritating metal rodents … what do you call them … cars? those intrusively garish steel necks that litter a lovely skyline … cranes? those token geese hissing and spitting as they guard their tiny patch of downtown grass from passersby. the scalped slopes of once-forested mountains.

mortals have certainly grown. taller. heavier. more complacent. lazy. sad. they have become so vulnerable. so far removed from the core of their existence. like baby birds, floundering for the next taste. existing for consumption. rather that consuming for existence. this intrigues me, excites me. lustful hunger … i feed and grow stronger suckling the teet of desperate, lustful hunger. it hangs thickly in the air here … and fear … rapacious entities like yours truly, we smell fear you know. fear … my sweet opium … hunger and fear, these transform me into a restless, sexual vulture. an immortal sexual vulture in a corporeal body.