MY PARAMOUNT PHANTASM, THE DIURNAL DELIRIUM OF MY SOUL. / 17,
@iYeri's malign ouroboros.
(I eviscerate you in thought,
unspooling the taut ligaments
of your being in fevered reverie.)
An incarnadine phantasm splayed across the visceral tableau of my yearning. You exist not in mere thought but as an eidolon of carnal sumptuousness, a dulcet torment sculpted in the sinew of unspoken appetites. To conjure you is to vivisect my own restraint, to exsanguinate civility and expose the quivering ligaments of my fervor. You are the ambrosial paradox of satiation and starvation, an aliment of ethereal hunger that binds me in its cyclical thralldom. Your flesh gleams in my fantasies like alabaster succulence whilst my hands are not flesh but malefic implements, my hunger is a sovereign draped in sepulchral majesty. I am the eidolon of famine—a grotesque reliquary where the sanctity of form disintegrates into the sublime profanity of consumption.
