Existence Womb (37)

   
   "Existence Womb (37)"
   
   Of course, goodish physician Luke knew Seattle was a harbor of safety, a city of rings and bling in the State of Washington, such as the lesser but passionate cities:  Spokane, Tacoma, Everett; also, a plethora more . . .
   Moreover, Luke was aware of Seattle's MLB Team, the Mariners, that Ken Griffey Jr. played for them.  MARINER:  "One who navigates or assists in navigating a ship.  A sailor.  A serious grappling (boarding) hook ass-kicker.  A white-hat.  Shipwreck from G.I. Joe in the 1980's cartoon and action figure literature.  When hand-to-hand fighting (Anthropological Combat) was the order of the fish oil-smelling day.  Like up in Thule, Greenland."
  And Shipwreck was Latino.  Never have a heated, hot pepper-kinda conversation with a Latino woman.  They can use a blade.  Can intimidate fiercely with the Butterfly Knife; specifically, they can carve ice figurines with a sharp edge, and perform mercurial circumcision, which is a sublime and sanctifying thing.  For so was the Christ Child under the promise of removal before crucifixion.    

Existence Womb (36)

   
   "Existence Womb (36)"
    
   The fine, goodish Doctor Luke had settled.  Now an official citizen of Canada--it was all fabricated by underground attorneys and spooks; still, he was anchored safely in the Great White North.
   In the Calgary Region.  Of all the Provinces and territories of Canada, Luke had planned on Saskatchewan, but he made a left turn and ended up in Alberta.  Saskatchewan sounded like on your ass-neck is smeared and creamy coyote scat; regardless, it kinda/sorta reminded him of that, but the coyote kill must be lower by the government in Canada than the United States.  It felt humane--more so.  And the women were deliciously hot, melting away the Popsicle, if a bag of ice didn't do it at the Emergency Room for a patient waaaay beyond his Viagra level.
   And he was glad to not be in movie-making British Columbia.  Besides not wanting to be close to Seattle.  Legal State, but he was not a Russell Wilson fan, though the dude reminded of Roger the Dodger from the famous, hard-hitting 1970's in the NFL.  Around that time, not even Buford T. Justice could escape Bradshaw and "Mean Joe" Greene in a Burt Reynold's film, and Justice was allowed to cross State Lines cause he was in "Hot Pursuit" of that Damn Bandit, and to punch Junior's Mamma in the mouth when he got home--it would be condemned, and is, nowadays--the United States, but forgetting the two sides to every web weaved.  
   Anyway, Luke would make contact. telepathically, with Buck's magnetic, cerebral skills.  And soon--his daughter and the Catholic Monk Werewolf would be his to control, lovingly possibly.  

Existence Womb (35)

   
   "Existence Womb (35)"
   
    Buck was getting near, very close, to the topic of the real big blocks, like:  "1969 Plymouth Barracuda with the odd 360 V-8 might take 1970 Mustang powered by the might of 8 cylinders, having a 351 Cleveland block; nevertheless, I prefer the Boss 302 we're restoring.  Out of the swift pocket--I say faster."
   "And what is the point to be my pedagogue on this--for the love of any number of angels that can superposition and shift their size to stand on any type of Grandmother's pin--this is not about your Dream for Big Block Highway is it?"  Miriam a bit bored, possibly jealous with Buck's admiration for the V-8 motor.
   Buck retorted:  "Little pretty flower--we're going to Canada to stay with your Dad.  I made telepathic contact with his whereabouts--like a smartphone."
   "You're not a smartphone; you're a werewolf with a religion forged from ancient times."
   Buck looked at Miriam with the male aspect of a man in a loving relationship, informing his quasi-woman boldly:  "Get your mind on your father's survival, and our gregarious gel with him, or I'm gonna start calling you kid.  A little lady Luke Skywalker."
   Miriam got the gist of it, was a bit back away from her heart and now into her common sense head, noticing a glee to see Dad, hoping the good doctor was doing dandy, and really, really, alive.   

Existence Womb (34)

    
   "Existence Womb (34)"
    
Miriam, waaaay milky, or feeling a fluid-like ache to create so,
Desiring to lactate for her creamy love to display and show--
Like Patty Duke--heavily on Anti-Psychotics;
Moreover, Miriam might have a dubious doppelganger that was nightmarish or neurotic.
We all possibly do, if the infinite number of possibilities in a theoretical Multiverse exist.
And Percy Shelley met his unlucky twin, dying later on a boat--maybe from atheism pissed?
Or is it mere lore, fables gone lame with the victory of an Industrial Revolution win?
Regardless, even a Holy Saint can be phobic and fall to sin;
Anyway, Miriam zealously vowed  to hang steady and true with magical Buck,
The Catholic Werewolf with a bit of Eastern Orthodox luck--
That luck, luck, luck--that Irish Mysticism Divine--
Like Canada's new fortune, unlike in America, getting arrested and paying probation for a dime.
And Miriam was still on her American Western Medicine too,
Saying her prayers compulsively, and dodging with spiritual agility that melancholy--jazzy hue.  

Existence Womb (33)

    
   "Existence Womb (33)"
    
   Luke, doing the old but debonair Timothy Dalton, as if in a pulse-pounding thriller concerning assassination on his growing embryo life-giver, due to the sublime style of religious wedlock; anyway, Luke was now forged from kinda/sorta imitating 007, serpent-slithering his way beyond the patrol of the Canadian Border, making it into the Great White North, Alberta Region, a bit southwards from major cities; nevertheless, getting, from an underground contact, polished computer input; plus, official-feeling paper documents, which would birth him a new, secret identity.
   Now all he had to do was gallantly protect Miriam by way of blending into the the frigid atmosphere, denying harassment by monster-haunting misfits. 
   No tail to chase or nail, but it would be no problem--Luke was a bit naturally frigid, enough to manipulate and control a libido with his cerebral powers, one day to bring Miriam and Buck to this new, quasi-arctic habitat.  A promise he had made to the Mother and Queen of Angels.  Having invoked Her many a time, honoring with the need of Her prayers:  "Mother, I will guard and shield sweet Miriam with all the graces given to me."  Just as if he had descended from the Templar Knights, and their mystical fascination with the Black Madonna.   

Existence Womb (32)

   
   "Existence Womb (32)"
   
   Buck wildly, but meekly, awoke to the radiating Sun, so alive with shimmering shine, beaming down an illuminated array of glimmer upon a Catholic Werewolf made a monk no longer.  Well, he was kinda/sorta still an Urban  Monk, having had only lovingly touched Miriam through the most personal of clothing, adoring her creamy kisses with sophomoric glee.
   Miriam too stretched her virtue like an angel does its wings, feeling no sinful shame or maddening guilt, but more of a natural nature and adoring protection, though Buck was a wolf, and it was a bit of primitive protection; nevertheless, with his historical knowledge , his werewolf telepathy; plus, as the Big Cheese Moon was in alliance with him--he was really a shield of almost angelic defense.

* * * *

When love ignites--it ALL is glam;
Next, comes the flooded peaks and valleys, breaking the dam;
Regardless, staying high in the saddle, though I prefer the Natives and their adoration of bareback,
And I've eaten at the Aussie eatery dubbed OUTBACK;
Plus, Miriam thought No More of her Sleep Paralysis,
Even watching a football game featuring the Cowboys from Dallas--
Buck explaining that they were America's Team
Cause of Roger the Dodger and a cheerleader squad with a well ornamented mien.  

Existence Womb (31)

    
   "Existence Womb (31)"
   
Miriam--a square; a virgin--of course,
Never had indulged in a carnal main course;
Nevertheless, Buck was meekly gentle and oozed intimate splendor,
Not hungry for penetration, yet heavily petting till her firework-exploding surrender;
Hence, she moistly imbibed his wet mouth with French kisses,
And it was more magnanimous than Tim Leary giving up LSD to do the dishes;
Regardless, their sexual synergy and gregarious gel was transcendent--
Not breaking her virginal virtue, being controlled by a higher commandment.
Afterwards, the twosome clung like the white and gold of a yummy Twinkie--
Miriam stroking Buck's werewolf mane with her pink-painted pinkie.
It was her first session of heavy petting,
And her heart was already crafting plans for a romantic wedding,
Yet she was only seventeen; moreover, Buck was nearing two thousand years of age--
The knowledge of their quasi-merge would get Nazi-like prosecutors enraged;
Thus, she would keep it all clandestine, buried and treasured in her merry, locked heart,
Knowing:  This was a philanthropic kinda start, for her,
Like having had applied or burnt the God-Willing power of myrrh.