switch_flick tender square i know for a fact that your prodigious use of coppertone makes a closed loop in my mind, lights the ol’ olfactory bulb and the wattage of our memories shimmers like your olive skin. that first trip to the lake, sizzling sunny-side up, millions of sand granules stuck to the undersides of our feet. i turn my head to the roots of a tattooed tree of life crowning on your shoulder: this is our beginning. it takes 8,000 flowers to capture a milliliter of jasmine’s riches; your supine body presses against every particle of my being—a breath of perfumed promise. 210901 what's it to you? who go blather from