The Empathic Tongue of Lasciva Libido

Half-asleep, and weighed down by lethargy, I somewhat awakened to the molestation of what felt like a female tongue glossing over My exposed skin.

Her empathic tongue initiated its route on the crown of My head, and proceeded to glide down, figure-eighting My orbitals with an undeniable consideration. I felt the moisture from her stroke linger on My brow ridge and underside of My eye lids, as I recoiled back to sleep.

When I awakened in the morning, I was stricken with horror to find My head absent of its lazily-curled locks.

I looked in the mirror, and to My dismay stood a pallid and befuddled salamander in the reflection, speckled throughout with benevolent poison that worked relentlessly on its enemy.

During that stretch of time, I had entered into yet another density of understanding that would thrust Me into the unconscious briny deep.