Anonymous
07/17/2021 (Sat) 20:57:21
No.3304
del
>>3292to read kennedi's writing is akin to wading through a coagulated mire, limbs tiring the further you go as tendrils of grime counterpoise every effort you make. paper lantern lungs gasp, the gossamer tissue bloating with sultry bog air desperate for a modicum of nourishment but finding none. tendons quiver but bear no fruit, eyes dart to and fro greeted only with obscurity, caudex heaves as the sticky peat presses back. every soupçon of anatomy begs to surrender until you have no choice but to palliate your fatigue and loll back into the viscous bed like a crestfallen lover's defeated sigh. toes sink but discover no substratum, instead the thickness of the mud cradles you dispassionately. hands descend onto the sebum sea as you are enveloped, and the mucoid surface is debossed with the shallow cavity of your fingerprints before swallowing them whole. layers of chantilly lace from your ivory gown accumulates at the surface, too diaphanous to join you in your submeration and instead abandons you serenely. the primordial lechery to remain with the flowered gauze in its suspension overcomes you, and maudlin pearls of salty lacrimal rain pitter patter onto the muck as it engulfs you in its cold sulfuric embrace.