Hanna Tawater

  • A squid’s name is Gertrude
  • Squid have four classes: stomper, shooter, scout, and healer
    • The first battled Namor
    • The second was a gangster
    • The third was the leader.
    • The fourth presumably boneless.
  • Paris said, “I do not really like them to be art.”
    • Someone emitted ink from his hands and rubbed them into a composition,
      but the abyss was disoriented at the time.
  • How many shades of blue can one person be before it becomes too tacky?
    • Style is hard when you’re dripping chromatophores.
      • But you have style.
          • I really like your junk, like, the way it outlines next to the zipper.
              • Beak by beak peeling open the insides.
              • Think of an erection as long as the mantle, head,
                and arms combined, tentacles probing the outerlayer.


            • You spawn mythology.


  • I wanted to be a mermaid when I was young and was sad when I learned I wasn’t
    anatomically compatible.

    • Then when I was ten I got a telescope and learned literally all the
      constellations instead.

      • Squid are excellent space travelers. Cutting new frontiers with a
        fistful of photophores
  • I’m afraid of revision, the morphing lanes of text,
    • but a squid is especially efficient in case of high traffic.
  • A squid is also melee weapon, capable of action, and not gridbound,
    • so put a greasy fried ring around that tongue and call it commitment.
  • I love you so much I would choke.
    • I would gag on each one of your arms just to feel your squishy insides,
      your suckers down my throat.

      • The only parts that can’t be eaten are the mouth and the pen, but
        romance is illiterate anyways. I mean, can you imagine being
        cooked in your own ink?
      • Your blood tastes like metal
        • squid can detect even neural activity.
      • I like your messy head today.
      • Your eyes are so large and beautiful like a vertebrate’s.
        • I want you to know I would mount all three mortar barrels
          while they thrust their depth charges and then rotate 90
          degrees for reloading because baby,

          • that’s love with three hearts.