In the morning I smell like Mexican food and at night I smell like seafood. I smell like heaven during the in between and I probably taste like it too.
Stabbing. Slicing. Grazing. Cold metal and no clothes on. Trash and cash in my pockets, covered in half-chewed spearmint gum. This is devious. The air out is dry. Moist palms but grabby hands.
I will stack them however I please.
