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It is often said, the toastier the roast, the bigger the beef. Something mysterious happens amidst a given roastie’s goring and boring, the punishing penetrations and serial prolapses. That once delicate, sliver of an innie blossoms like an angry meaty tulip, one that holds only gaping darkness as its pollen.
Diving deeper into her labyrinthine labia, we peer into an incredible world beneath the beef and bologna, one ruled by a kind of ‘Rule of the Jungle,” only this empowered ecology spreads itself open to a new batch of invasive species almost every evening. Those Papilloma particles are pummeled and pulverized into her flesh, the same as the sticky spores of Gonorrhea, the motley lots of adenoviruses, amoebas and anaerobic fauna, many from vastly far away places. Driven through her epithelial layers and deep into her beef, they burrow and seek out nutrition, infection, and begin to terraform the vaginal tissues into a land suitable for the apocalyptic droves deposited throughout each cycle of the sun. Her immune system has long since grown into an abiding symbiosis with the invasive menagerie of bacteria, fungie and flagelating mystery monsters, even incorporating genes delivered by the various retroviruses and postules of microRNA sent throughout her blood stream at the behest of her vagina’s new tenants.
Designed by nature to be a fertile pasture for reproduction, now her semen-soddened womb whistles hollow like a ghostly edifice remaining from a war.
