consider raze i think once you've been with someone who smokes when you're someone who doesn't, the bittersweet smell cigarettes give to your clothes will always bring that person back to you, if only in the vapour of overheated memory. i started coughing from all the secondhand smoke i was taking in. i almost missed the cough when it was gone, because everything else was leaving with it. i'm a serial sloucher, but i'll stand up straight for this. in another life, you cooked indian food and bared your teeth, and i sat crosslegged on the kitchen floor, kissing candlelight with my peripheral vision, and there was no smoke but for the burning of our bodies as they bent toward the flame. walking around inside that life is the same as rotating my mattress and giving myself to a part of it i'm not used to. i haven't had a chance to make my mark yet. but i will. 210815 what's it to you? who go blather from