The one thing you hate about love

After the first kiss when you wake up,
You swear you’ll never break up again.

A dulcet flavour that promises to be a salve for all fatigue that was, and will be. You nestle happily, eyes closed loving it all, as it is. In all its imperfections, you know you’ll swim always.

Wholesome and pure?

The east wind blows in and whispers the Zen of old saying ‘ just when you think you’ve got it, its gone’.

snuggling up against his warm body under the quilt

and the lazy Sunday brunch of cornflakes and sliced apples

or those fingers pulling you to him so he can smell your hair

or those 3 hours you took to choose his birthday gift

and his kiss

and….his kiss

the number on the speed dial

random memories, yearning of bruised bodies…you wish them away. Ah and brilliant. The powers that be won’t let me play my music.

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