The kiss was fresh, salty, and purifying, like a Ray Peat carrot salad.  Her legs were like the carrots: firm and straight, wrapping around my legs like the root systems of two adjacent trees.  Her skin was like the coconut oil: perfect ethereal white in the present, but melting into invisibility as we warmed each other.  Her eyes were like the salt: the only geological part of this otherwise biological moment, eyes soft like marble, but pointed like the sharp saltrocks, eyes that would live longer than me like granite would, eyes shiny like the eternal stars in the sky, eyes I’d never forget even after I died, eyes that were open, looking into my own open eyes.  I don't know what part of her body was like the apple cider vinegar. Still, there was something hostile but cleansing pouring over us, then dripping back out, leaving a pool of liquid at the bottom of the bowl when it was over.