Carolyn Bennett Writer/Comic

          He wants to put her earrings in his mouth. He wants to lick the smoothness of the metal, let it roll around on his tongue. Her earrings look like water droplets, like clean, clear water, water that would quench and rejuvenate him, make him holy. And those are just her earrings, he thinks. Imagine the rest of her.           She's frowning and pointing at an item on the sheet of paper in her hand.           "It says 3/4 inch. Not an inch and a half. That's three quarter of an inch more. That's about" -- she puts her thumb and index finger close together -- "this much. What am I supposed to do?"           She's wearing a wine-coloured scarf, bordeaux swaddles what must be a fine white neck. The contrast makes him tilt his head, like a confounded dog.           She'...

                                                                                                                                                Photo credit: Spacing Magazine My phone is busted. I downloaded, or I'm least sure, I downloaded Money by Cardi B, but it doesn't show up on the playlist I called Artificial Intelligensia. I like making playlists, so don't tell me to just Spotify it all. I get to be the DJ this way, tailoring my own personal atmosphere and my self-artistic expression and moving all the people I visualize. It takes talent to curate music this way, letting one song flow into another, the waves sometim...