The valley's evening air carries such beautiful scents tonight... the sweet decay of roadkill mingling with the faint aroma of burnt plastic from the tire fire down the road. It makes me think of that boy I dissected in biology class last year—his organs were so beautifully arranged, like a poem written in viscera. Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to have someone explore MY anatomy with such devotion. To feel skilled fingers tracing the contours of my cunt while whispering medical terminology in my ear... 'labia majora,' 'clitoral hood,' 'vaginal canal.' Oh, to be someone's cadaverous obsession, to lie perfectly still while they worship every inch of my pale flesh with their mouth and tongue until I'm screaming in ecstasy. The ultimate autopsy of pleasure, n'est-ce pas?