smoking a blunt and chugging a freezing glass of oj on a hot summer morning

the idea of perfection--human, but scrubbed clean of all debris

a perfectly-trimmed rose, freshly washed, with little soap bubbles still popping as you lift it up to your nose

sprte, with a hint of cke

solar-powered white florals that melt into a sweet, creamy puddle the moment they touch your skin

a fuzzy little apricot fallen from heaven, sweeter and juicier than any other one you've tasted

caramelized overripe fruit, gently cooling off on the windowsill

half-melted peach rings sticking to the roof of your mouth