I see imperfection and humanness. I see crooked teeth, chapped lips and skin tone. I see the dark room that this was taken. I see tile floors, a dirty kitchen. I see remnants off fast food. The people's eyes and bodies are tired. I see longing to leave.
I smell smoke and cigar breath. Morning breath and expensive perfume. I smell cheap metal and tropical music. I smell the old couch that is in the room. I smell body odor and evidence that they have not showered.
I hear slow breathing, slow music. I hear an old phone ringing in the background. I hear cars and people outside. I hear the ringing of an old lamp. I hear other people talking about the subject. I hear people coming in and out of the room.
I taste sweat, ashes, and soda. I taste cherry cough drops. I taste the city streets. I taste the sewers and fake leather. I taste mint toothpaste in my own mouth.
I feel stubble, skin, and the smoothness of make up. Big pores and bumpy skin. I feel empathy and craziness. They look like they want to say something, but are too tired. They look like they are waiting for something big. I feel similar.
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