Grunts groans and shuffling
This one is a slow mover for sure
Getting close enough to be heard
He grunts out
"I'm so attracted to your brains...."
As far as innuendos go
Zombies aren't as clever as they think
His cold rotten hand upon your warm smooth hip
His breath would be awful if he could breathe
And as soon as you think that
You wonder how he can talk at all
What with the basic principle of vocal chords
"Your skull is too pretty to be in one piece
Let me help you with that"
He whispers in vicious thoughtus interruptus
Milky dead eyes beg you to fall into them
To surrender your soul to him
Or at least your brains
And you almost do
Allowing a cool embrace
Wrapping your arms around him
Feeling vertebrae protruding through back skin with gentle fingertips
As a pair of wintry lips wriggles their way up your neck
Creeping past your ear as two undead damp caterpillars
Again he softly speaks to his desire for you
"Your head is the sweetest of truffles
I yearn to taste the creamy....."
But you cut him short
As you always do
Sinking your fingers into his back
Tearing the decayed torso asunder
Watching tearfully as the head falls to the ground at your feet
Still attached to spine
Lips still pining for you
For a taste of you
It's hard to stomp on it
But you do
Satisfied at the sound it makes
This one is a slow mover for sure
Getting close enough to be heard
He grunts out
"I'm so attracted to your brains...."
As far as innuendos go
Zombies aren't as clever as they think
His cold rotten hand upon your warm smooth hip
His breath would be awful if he could breathe
And as soon as you think that
You wonder how he can talk at all
What with the basic principle of vocal chords
"Your skull is too pretty to be in one piece
Let me help you with that"
He whispers in vicious thoughtus interruptus
Milky dead eyes beg you to fall into them
To surrender your soul to him
Or at least your brains
And you almost do
Allowing a cool embrace
Wrapping your arms around him
Feeling vertebrae protruding through back skin with gentle fingertips
As a pair of wintry lips wriggles their way up your neck
Creeping past your ear as two undead damp caterpillars
Again he softly speaks to his desire for you
"Your head is the sweetest of truffles
I yearn to taste the creamy....."
But you cut him short
As you always do
Sinking your fingers into his back
Tearing the decayed torso asunder
Watching tearfully as the head falls to the ground at your feet
Still attached to spine
Lips still pining for you
For a taste of you
It's hard to stomp on it
But you do
Satisfied at the sound it makes
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