After some whiles of motionless observation during which the violet skies stayed uncertain, the Sphinx jumped on Oedipus compelled by an animal force, in wings and feline torso, in torrid labia minora, because her eyes looked like the surface of a sealed plastic box, both and wide open, in a sexual stupor that blended the emotion fallen from the star with the pulsatile clitorian rhythm
and the Sphinx was a monster].
Oedipus was a hero of motionless observation whose ears received divine suggestions from Holympus, and despite he mistrusted her, he stayed uncertain, looking at the Sphinx in the eye. In the eye.
Man, in the end, his brown stare acquired then the ambiguous hue of a tenderness that is feared, yet yearned, the atrociously irresistible color of the insane desire... the throbbing penile ardor
and the Sphinx was not human].
Her crowned head of gold gleamed under the solar arrest for a moment, like the venerable goddesses that don't exist, like that golden past that we think is better than it really is.... her breasts of damsel flowed with tender milk while her claws trapped Oedipus's body, to make it hers only hers under the solar arrest, for a moment, while the enamored stupefaction bathed the air. The air
and the Sphinx was a woman].
Recapitulation and ashes of a story that could never be: her fascination was satisfied by Oedipus -king or not- at the feet of that scabrous cliff, under the solar arrest, in the black afternoon
black of calenture, and black of her concha full of cock, as it always was meant to be, as animalized as this rarefied fable can get, while the enamored stupefaction bathed the air. The air
and the Sphinx was an assassin].
This is how Oedipus passed through that narrow cliff of death -some say-, after some whiles of motionless observation, as the violet skies stayed uncertain, in the black afternoon.
and the Sphinx was not human].
Her crowned head of gold gleamed under the solar arrest for a moment, like the venerable goddesses that don't exist, like that golden past that we think is better than it really is.... her breasts of damsel flowed with tender milk while her claws trapped Oedipus's body, to make it hers only hers under the solar arrest, for a moment, while the enamored stupefaction bathed the air. The air
and the Sphinx was a woman].
Recapitulation and ashes of a story that could never be: her fascination was satisfied by Oedipus -king or not- at the feet of that scabrous cliff, under the solar arrest, in the black afternoon
black of calenture, and black of her concha full of cock, as it always was meant to be, as animalized as this rarefied fable can get, while the enamored stupefaction bathed the air. The air
and the Sphinx was an assassin].
This is how Oedipus passed through that narrow cliff of death -some say-, after some whiles of motionless observation, as the violet skies stayed uncertain, in the black afternoon.
Because he was the only man who loved the monstrosity, and bathed her crowned head of gold with cum under the solar arrest for a moment, like that golden past that we
think is better than it really is.
And Oedipus was a ghost from beyond the Hells].
And Oedipus was a ghost from beyond the Hells].
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