The slithering gimp. Spoken in a hiss.
Energy, "the life of the universe," is lust most primal. Unless "engaged" elsewhere, an electron will zzzip to a proton faster than anything. The friar man says they stay together forever, but he liesss. The cowboy man says they “stay in their shells, cowpokes,” but he liesss. They move and shake and slither and buffett and graze and grab and grip and suck and philander. They swap shells, mates, holes, whatever is easiest because at bare, this is a universe of lustful laaaaazy.
Even water is a whore. So says they: "we can't overstate the importance of water. To life, water is all." Lies, lies, lies; water is a whorish lie! It has no beauty; it has no liquid mystery flux; it's an atomic fuck.
Oxygen's eight protons will seduce eight electrons, but since it can still fits two more...tug tug tugs it does on nearby electrons, which also tug tug tug on the protons they're bound to. Friar man, is this beautiful? The single electron gets tugged right into that orgy of oxygen, tugged by the appetite of eight protons.
And how does the abandoned hydrogen react? Will it dissolve, disperse, chase? No. It lecherizes. It yanks desperately at any mate it can distract for long enough -- which is most often an electron off the oxygen orgy heap!
--
A molecule is
a chaos of charged particles
clinching to the extreme.
Everybody wants a taste.
...a most electric orgy.
--
Listen to the rain. Listen, oh listen, to the giggly din of a quardillion orgy.
