Smoking Notices
posted on mouth's roof, unscorched,
rather, submissive, to lukewarm noodles.
I like room temperature food.
As a smoker I, well I, before I
made nicotine dessert (and pre-breakfast,
coffee, the drive to school [and back],
too), second only to flavor I
wanted clear indications of hot and
cool. Lavasoup and icy fruit. Texture -
tongue welcomes anything, after
becoming acquainted with sperm - no,
just taste and temp for calories one
needn't suck for -
I de-emphasized degrees after afew
years of - rebellion - smokers notice
flavor less, there are reasons one
cannot become a registered connoisseur. In
order to re-tart strawberries and
de-bland butter I
ran out of room on the kitchen counters
and stored my shampoo in the freezer.
I watched food sit when it should be chilled
or heated waited a few extra minutes to
consume a slice of pizza. I can't have a
competition with flavor and you, temperature
are seeded high. By pushing food to rot it
oxidizes or screams to be used gives up on
preserving and succumbs to the tongue to
the mouth that chews it; the only
exception I make is for sperm.
Monday, March 22, 2010
The Second Most Important Thing.
Labels:
bodies,
boundaries,
cigarettes,
eating,
food,
humor,
milk,
nonsense,
stoned
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 footnotes:
Post a Comment