I disagree. Your waxy face looks ashen like a cadaverous larva, but I am enamoured with your smell, like a cranal flower with a frankincense opening, steeped in the essence of leather and mimosa.
You are a delight. If only I could remove your head altogether.
I will perform the surgery at once. I hope you are not too sensitive to pain.
I will elect to have the surgery, too. There is someone particular I have in mind whom I would like to impress. So far, nothing else is working.
What is this burning sensation? It is all encompassing. As if there are holes everywhere, all over me.
Burning sensations. Burning sensations.
I cannot make sense of all this slime. You are so slimy. Might I run my tongue along this substance?
Perhaps I will move underground like a subterranean alien.
I will visit and bring gifts to soothe your decaying limbs which will be crushed by the weight of the earth on top of your body.
I will also apply my saliva technique to your rotten spots. No problem at all.