Fizzing out into the world as if from a giant Pez
dispenser, translucent lava light as air comes
forth to conceive. Plunging into tender flesh
made ready by body oils laden with the wanton
scent of heavy seas; whirling deliriously in the
desert wind, creating creatures of dubious lineage
with sperm-like efficiency.
They ogle like jinn in the desert, enamored with
the bewitching beauty of salacious woman, and
tower tall as they blow fire between heated thighs,
spying on maidens in the distance, washing their
long shiny hair at the oasis.
They come and cream the harlots of the dunes
and fizz their dreams with teeming cupidity,
standing genitalia that smell of musk and vanilla
berry. It soothes the women in their slumber and
gives the hellions access to their favors without
so much as a slight defiance.
Their spawn is seen on moonlit nights, floating like
mist over desert dunes, singing songs of solitude and
concupiscent melancholy, seeking tender women in
which to infuse their lucent spore.