You lit my canvas with colors of latitude.
Later, held back hansel of happiness: this
isn’t age centric. Difference between a
twenty-something and one marinated by
mordancy: latter is in rhythm with right
of way. Trick is to elevate ordinariness
of experience into kick-starting processes
tickling you pink like foreplay of tears in
intimacy. Does my smell say anything?
If it offends: you are for someone else.
Piják absintu -- Viktor Oliva