I let you go.
Now your socks don’t
smile the same way that
they used to smile.
Category: love
Silky Smooth
Rubbing against the silky oak
table feels like
rubbing my face against
the underside of your
arm; so smooth.
The Coffee Table
Sliding through the coffee table, I shout, “Oh no, I’m stuck!”
My significant other tickles me as I wriggle to be free.
In my struggle, the top of the coffee table comes loose.
I am free, but my favourite cup breaks; there are many tears.
Carpet Burns
Rubbing yourself against
the carpet.
Hoping he will tickle
your feet again.
A Sausage of Feelings
I bought a sausage maker. It sat in the cupboard for a decade. Then, one day, I decided to make sausages.
I remember how young you and I were when you bought the machine; we were in our late 20’s? Yes, I think so.
Waists were smaller then, minds were less clouded, hearts less broken, and hope brighter.
I stood before the sausage maker and thought that if I could make the perfect sausage for you, it would contain the following ingredients:
one part happiness
one part hope
one part kindness
one part worth
one part 1000 echo’s from the sea
one part the essence of 100 sunsets and sunrises
one part 1000 snowflake feels
one part essence of 100 people laughing loud
Then I would present it to you, ask you to eat it, and then ask you to look at yourself in the mirror. I would ask you, “What do you see?” I hope you can see the person you are to me, my sweet bear.
Boxes
I am packing the boxes to find old treasures that I thought didn’t exist, for I forgot about them.
I find that old black and white picture, a vase from Mum’s place with purple orchards, a trinket with sentimental value from school, and the plaster from my broken arm.
I’m thinking about the awakened memories as feelings start to rush and mess with my heartstrings.
Sniffing the items a little, I’m sneezing and crying.
Ice Cube Heart
Ice cubes sit in the freezer. I think about how they used to be liquid from the tap, and now they are blocks of ice. My thoughts remind me of a story once told by an old sentimental fool.
A man and a woman loved each other. When his love was new to her, his heart was warm. He and she moved through life easily, for the days were sunny despite the weather. His laughter was so infectious to her that she would often bloom with a smile.
After some time passed, his heart turned into those ice cubes. In her heart, he remained dear despite the cold feelings that crept into his arteries. Although there was no warmth in his heart anymore, she never gave up hope that his love was real.
Then, on a day like any other, they travelled together in the car; He was driving and calling her names over something trivial; She was very upset. He did not realise that soon she would leave this world, and he would no longer have the sunshine of his heart.
An accident occurred. As she lay dying in the passenger seat, his heart began to melt. He then realised how much he loved her. He promised to honour her memory by climbing many mountains and exploring the Earth with her ashes so that they could both see the world together.
That sentimental old fool is the man in this story. He died a few years ago and had her ashes sprinkled all over him before he was cremated.
My Knees Squeak
You fucked off.
Where you went is none of my concern, now that your heart and mine don’t sing a pretty song.
Now, all I can do is talk to myself about regrets and shit. I’m alone, in my 30’s, and my bank balance is small. You even took the cat with you because you said fluffy loves you more!
In my desolation and decay, I put on five kilograms from eating too many Swiss chocolates, my clothes don’t fit properly, and I look like a frump.
Now that I have taken the path of least resistance and succumbed to watching shit loads of television and listening to crap music, my knees squeak as I move from the couch to the coffee table, and I talk to myself in a morphed language.
When will you acknowledge that I still love you, or am I just blowing hot air up my arse?
Tablecloth Blues
“Darling, dinner is almost finished. Will you scratch my back? It’s so itchy…“
He gets up from the table, heads towards the man cave, then says, “I’ll think about it…“
You’re still itchy, and you know even if he is taking the piss, he’ll make you wait for a scratch.
The tablecloth has embroidered bumps that move along the fabric in perfectly proportioned lines. It suits your obsessive nature.
You take off your top, and then you begin to rub your back against the tablecloth.
The salt and pepper shakers fall over with a bump, the tomato sauce bottle rolls onto the floor, and the plates start to move towards the edge.
He comes out to investigate the cause of the noise, only to find his pretty girl scratching her back on the tablecloth.
“Are you quite alright there?“
“I’m itchy!“
“I’d better scratch you then…“
“No groping! Be nice!“
“I’m always nice, and you know it.“
You turn her head and give him a sideways eye smile as you start to moan from the nails down your skin.
The Extreme Setting
You went on Tingly Tinglier looking for a hot date. You found this sexy chic with long red hair, blue eyes, and long legs. You swiped upwards too many times. Luckily, she was a bit desperate, so she swiped down.
At dinner, all you can think about is how nice it would be to tie her up, tickle her feet, and bang her into the bed stand.
She’s looking a bit toey and tingly, so you ask her back to your place for an extra-strong coffee with cream, milk, and sugar.
Inside your home, romance begins on your washing machine. You’ve never found a woman who likes washing clothes, so this has got you baffled.
You get into her kinky nature and turn the spin cycle to the extreme. She’s in ecstasy, her toes are curling, and she looks like she’s having a seizure.
You want to be a gentleman, so you ask her if she is alright, but she begs you to keep turning the spin cycle to the extreme.
Things progressed. Now that she has moved in with you, your clothes are always fresh and clean.
C & K 