Beginning to get the picture. Your flash is on the surface. 
 
You taste of star anise ‘launching’ the latest OS in fertility: you wiggle like my borzoi  
 
also w/ backsliding wipe-outs & their aftermath:  
trash-flashes we tautologize into cattle calls of glugging purity.  
At least our calls’re in the area...  
‘holding each other open’ ordaining our interpretive devices to 
bleep up to the top.  
 
There may be other areas, too.