You're textured like an ice cube

Cheating potatoes left sorry faces on the lemon-flavored petunias. Do you know what a star tastes like? They explode in your mouth like pop rocks, sparkle motion: Extreme Team number one on my favorites. Let me show you how to feel the electric vibrations of sound: they lunge towards you and wobble off your body like mutilated silk. Your personality has a texture too. It's like ice on my tongue; you know the ice cubes from your cup? The way the surface is smooth but slightly pebbled? I imagine the white implosion of lines inside the ice-cube; results from the freezing. It's like a tiny castle, such little white lines...

We live east of Mars and north of Jupiter. I like the umbrella on your porch and how it buckles and billows in our unearthly wind. We'll live here forever, you know. Your pale eyes match the sky. I'll never lose myself as long as you bequeath this time to me. This heart is safe and solid. The cigarettes smolder in the weakening light. We watch the lines of Jupiter and listen to a typewriter as it narrates our story. Nobody knows the pages aren't there, but nobody cares to look. Don't look away... don't ever look away; because when you do you lose a memory. By the time you look back (at me) you'll realize that you've lost everything.