Slippery slope it is down down down she goes, gently down the stream. And so gentle. Perhaps we be mere mortal monkeys, but I digress: to regress or to transcend, I do not wish to comprehend. The temperature, like my chest, is oh-so-warm and rising. And you, unlike the rest, are young and enterprising. Our gestures groom so playfully. Tender turbinates, take thee to the sea! It will wash you out. It will do you good. I still will seek the sun, as you knew I would. Now.
No, now.