Secondhand revison

With my eyes shut
I see his face.
It seems afflicted
with dithering.
All the silly spiteful cells
inside of me
fossilize
because i can feel his cold sweat
as if it was running down my spine.
Water invades into his blood
to dilute his savageness.
I just wish i get a chance to whisper gently
into his ear
how he moves me
and twist my lashes between his
for a wink of fragile harmony.
He isn't that alien out there.
I am susceptible of another interpretation
freely, too.

P.S. If i don't stop receiving this damn C-I-A-L-I-S soft tabs junk mail i am gonna eat all the expired, best before 1000 B.C. Santa wrapped chocolates and then volcanically erupt all the dough together with some yellowish gall most passionately, pack it nicely and send it daily to those, who get a hard on filling us up with this shit. Has any human being ever actually bought any of this crap??? I DO NOT NEED VIAGRA OR ELSE TO GET ME GOING, OK?!