Ebola, insouciant in her slough.

She brushed detritus from her forehead to her t

aut lips. Amphibians chirped the blood moon down. Oh Ebola. No love lost for poo
r Ebola. Filthy aubergine skin sparkled under lunar luminescence. The buxom bidd
y from the black bog dragged her half-atrophied body to a cypress tree stump, ri
nged with senescence. A succulent nightcrawler wriggled out of Ebola's hirsute n
ostril, which she unceremoniously slirped between her indigo lips with indignati
on.