I know of a sweet place to die. There are memories of icecream on a cold night with raspberry sauce. With gumption and love I plod on. Her skin is getting softer and crinkled like a raisin. There are no tomorrows, only a very wet today. How many first lines will I write before delving deep into the belly of my thought-whale? Are you refreshed? Do you feel the mint on my breath? How long before I reach the zenith I crave? Is it in this moment already? Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you farm fresh energy with grins pickled in sweetness with a serving of gravity and a drizzle of beauty. We are all equal, truly. If its not true don’t tell me, please. I’d rather die believing it.