I pulled my knife up from the air and near to my lips.
blew on the brownie and felt it turn flame. My eyes closed, searing and poddlling the image into my mind. Meat charred about the edges of my inner eye’s frame of imagination, but with a deep red soaking up the inside, I felt a thrill sensation but didn’t see it. My imagination was separate from reality.
blew the brownie again and sparks from flames danced out from my wind and the meat returned with a feeling of me being in the snow but warmed from a thick fur coat. The snow leaked out across the freckled land before me. Gorgeously blanketing but displacing , because I was in the kitchen. At the house I shared with Abbey and Randy, the brownie was in my mouth and I was in a house trapped in the desert.
I saw the beef and felt the lick, imagined the beef going into me, and then it was the meat. I felt the texture and it sunk into my gums and tongue like the fat of beef. The taste was of deep earthy notes that mimicked smoked animal cooked very slow until it was so moist it soothed your mouth with its squish. Then I squished it to the roof of my mouth and woke up. My eyes starked open with a tiny glare. I left hemisphere analyzed the right hemisphere feeling and realized I’d felt the texture of brownie and it had shocked me with it’s fluffing sparkles of baking powder that fizzled on my tongue. *rolls neck around again, searching for and displacing the knots in her neck, my neck as I rock into it’s tense balls of held in pain* *comes back to you by placing self in left hemisphere so the right will stop wanting for me and turning me into an emotion machine, losing language just to feel, losing focus to stop remembering so I can just…feel the *moves right hip back with the left pressed forward and deepens into the pleasure stretch*
Oh yeah! Pleasure is an adaptation. Jeffrey and I found out how earlier today. I wonder what it was. Hope I remember.
The brownie bits of that fluffy brownie texture dispersed from the gooey fat feel of the pumpkin and I was left with just the fluff feeling of brownie bits. They felt so fucking wrong that my eyes split open. I just wanted to get them out of my mouth. My mouth screamed *LIES!* in a Poseidon level sound of voice. Lion even. It wasn’t meat and I brought that lion me into the present and realized I’d just freaked out over brownies not being meat…and felt that *Insannity *sung in an old school lady opera voice*
Hahaha I just realized we do still have oral traditions. Songs. If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands, the itsy bitsy spider, the wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round. Our parents taught those songs to us and we carry them on. We don’t really make up new ones, we just continue the songs down the line from line to line.
That brownie totally lied about being beef.