Intergalactic Summit

Wanted: Gosakumori Noh.
Neck: slim. Buttocks: meaty.
Age: timeless. Cheeks: aglow.
Profession: mother, or deity.

Where are you hiding, my Golden Moon?
Why are you hiding, goddess?
(I'm popping right out, I'll be back very soon,
now be a good boy, said the poddess).

Where are you flying, my Guiding Song?
What make is the magic carpet?
If I am good, can I come along?
Will you not bring your star pet?

Who is your favorite, Mother dear?
Which handsome and smooth adolescent?
Give him to me, and I'll chew off his ear,
and give it to you as a present.

Oh, my Mother, the armor cracks!
Can you not hear me howling?
(Both in worn frigates, both in torn wrecks,
and I, in my capsule, growling).

Happy, happy, am I with myself,
When I am scratched on my tummy.
Will you not polish the rust off your elf,
and roll in the grass with me, Mummy?

My Mistress, my distress! Her eyes were kvit,
and never closed when I licked her.
If I should bite, will you give me a treat,
or will you reproach me, stricter?

Masta er riven og sjøen er raud,
Den tapte må lita på teften.
Veidemannsvakta er lettare daud,
med menneskekjøt i kjeften.

Sputtering, guttering, Sacred Womb,
In plasma and lead, I'm dying.
Soon I will rise from my digital tomb,
and bring you my flesh for frying.

Capsuleer, capsuleer, where do you go?
Will you not hear the story?
Her teeth are sharp, and I love her so,
and her name is Gosakumori.

Capsuleer, capsuleer, there she flies,
over there, by the distant station!
My heart is hers, and she rules my skies,
and she fills my dreams with temptation.

Wanted: Gosakumori Noh.
Her dream-white eyes never wander.
She seees through my skin to my heart below:
no fickle-eyed elf ever conned her.

My teeth are aching, my Mummy Noh,
and the first few bites are the hardest,
and I shall go hunt where the sharp-toothed go,
and the rest is rust and stardust.

There's a fine line between pleasure and pain
You've done it once, you can do it again
Whatever it is don't try to explain
There's a fine, fine line between pleasure and pain...
--Part of an ancient tome, Author Unknown


And the OP has crossed over into migraine territory. Ouch.

I'm increasingly baffled by the tastes and eccentricities of those who post on the Summit.

Are-- are you quite sure you're alright?

Oh for crying out loud.

Love is in the air.

Happy endings are the best!

I look forward to hearing about your nuptials.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
That poem doesn't rhyme
And neither does this

I think his corporation name is what has been going up his nose.

So they're interested? Is the Senate or any Federal authority interested too? Huh, neat. Sorry I railed you earlier Noh. At least you went and talked to them before spreading the stuff everywhere. Good luck to you. Watch out for adaptive mutations though...tricky things.

Just because you can doesn't mean you should.

It is a good thing that the Summit does not allow red writing against a black background.