A message from the dead

No one who chooses to build a life in this can pull the curtains back enough to bore themselves. Satisfaction may be a perfect basil pesto or a belt high enough on a woman that it acccentuates the mammaries. There's a slow perversion guiding me throughout- the jean skirt discarded on the floor, the tampons and perfume, toast with lemon curd, voices leaking into reveries, another new menu.