I like how when we’re together and you think no-one’s watching, you give me your last one. A small, round candy piece with a heart on it, which has cute, but mostly silly, cliche messages inside. Be mine. Kiss me. For keeps. I love you. This time, I give you my last one. Marry me? You bite into it, a nervous laugh leaves your lips as you try to decide if I’m serious or just joking. I’m serious.
Tag: marriage
Nozzle-rama
What do you do if you have a tube
needing a nozzle,
but is nozzle-less?
And while we’re at it,
perhaps we should consider
how nozzle is close to nuzzle,
close as close, yet far apart,
unless you’re applying filler.
Discuss.
What is in
the nozzle-needing
nozzle-less tube,
anyway?
A hand to hold,
a hug from a friend
undercover as a stranger?
A cart-load of commuters
squashed up in glue?
Ah, the nozzle.
Hiding down the aisle,
white-feather painted.
Now we can use it
to thrust out
liquid staples into the cracks
that have appeared
in your straining cheeks.
It’ll only hurt for a moment.
Promise.
Treeshallow Musings 