breaking|up|is|hard|to|do|in|the|retro][future
by demismorkles4evr55
your love... your love...
is like a bolutian aquatic teridactyl
drifting in the yellow green oceans of phoebus v.
sort of...
but i can still remember our first kiss
in front of the famous waterfalls
of trident iv, little demismorkles waltzing
in the pools at our feet, ripples in our toes.
and i was a little alarmed when you grabbed me
and a little offended when you broke down laughing
but just then a zankle flew by
and i felt like a tiny quat on his wings...
so i guess what i'm trying to say is that being with you
is comparable to the life cycle of a thermian grambit
especially the part about the daily sex changes
which start right after the grambit implants its
larvae into the multiskulled cephalagrackle.
or maybe i'm the cephalagrackle and you're the grambit larva
or something...
but anyway the night we climbed the green pronged ladder palms
of scanidana, i knew our affair would soar
like the purple tresseled falcon of the cambrian belt
and i didn't think it'd do a piledriver
into the nosican salt flats on techtell prime.
then again no one ever expects their love to do a piledriver
into the nosican salt falts on techtell prime.
well expect perhaps the gramit larvae,
which tend to be rather pessimistic
but who can blame them really, living like that,
eating your way out of a celphalagrackle?
but what i really mean is do you remember
when we were watching the rare fellutian turies
from the green cliffs of bini? and the turies were hunting down
and deinurpting that large keluna? and you remarked that
you imagined you were one of those rare fellutian turies
bouncing along the waves? and i agreed?
in retrospect i probably felt less like ones of those turies,
and more like the keluna, flounding in a pool of its inurpts
stripped of its dignity like a common splurgen multilated in the typical way
of the harvest festival on pinkumi ii...
so, all this is really to say that even the most stable
binary systems sometimes drift apart, and even one day
the famous moon frogs of rana ii and sapo iii win't be able to leap far enough
and one day their melifluous mating calls won't bridge that growing gap,
worlds set adrift long before those semiplufted terraces
were formed in the cayons of rigel ix.
and which we visited last week.
and where i quietly confessed "i don't love you anymore"
but you're eyes had already glazed over maybe at the beauty of the cayons
but more likely because of those 4 or 5 or 7 snizzies you popped right before.
so i just stole a snizzie from your bag and became one with the dancing cloud aparations.
