Having escaped his dank and desolate amniotic enclosure, the devil's milk became an ebony arterial spray dripping like warm wax down a gold-leaf candlestick.
He'll give you an inch, and take your smile...
He's a wildflower among the thorn, with ripe lies plump for the picking, with a heavy and pungent ripeness; haunting, fleshy apricots with poisonous pits.
--Coolness to a burning throat, oozing with crisp copper mockery.