A Few Minutes In Love


When you take my hand it’s not my fault that I forget how to breathe.

It’s no fault of mine, when you touch me, that I have a hard time remembering what I was thinking or what I was about to say.

It’s really hard to speak when you forget how to make words.

Bubble, stubble, rubble…

It’s all your fault, this state I’m in….

“Quit looking at me like that…” says I

There’s something in your eyes that makes me….uneasy.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking…”

Predator of my love, stalker of my heart.

“I hate how much I love you, sometimes” you say

“It causes you physical pain?” I chide

“It is almost unbearable the closer you are to me”

“Do I stink?” in contempt and alarm

“Usually, but not now” says she with a wave of her majestic dish soap bubbled hand.

“You, however dear lady, never stink,  for thine are a cursed stone that must not be touched, but is irresistible to deny” Says I with a flourish of dramatic stage presence…

“I am afraid that if I touch you that I will leave a smudge” you say….touching me and leaving bubbles, as feared….or perhaps, a water logged Cheerio.

“Like unto the man-handled blade of Excalibur, I am blemished!!” heralds my inner King Arthur

My eyes to yours, a crooked grin…

My quaint mate sticks out her tongue at me and instructs me to do something to myself that is physically impossible.

I am chastised…

“Don’t be a big silly, my lover; I am only me….I am not perfect.” Says I

“I will decide what is perfect for me” you say with nose in disdain…

“What do you consider perfect?” I ask

Your shy, crooked grin appears…

“Oh…” thinks I “Mischief is afoot”

Your eyes look at the sky, a finger to your lips “How do I describe “my perfect”? Hmmmm

“You tell me yours and I’ll match ya and bet that you are more perfect than me, deal?”

Challenge given….and accepted.

The blades cross!


“You first” says chivalrous me….

Y:  “Your shadow under the door”

M: “Your hair in my brush”

Y: “Your missing socks”

M: “Your girl razor in my shower”

Y: “Your whiskers in my sink”

M: “Your spoon in the ice cream”

Y: “No, ice cream at all!”

[Stares of accusation and guilt]

“The smell of your pillow” says you.

“Your smell” counters I

“Your children” says you…

“No, Your…children” blames I

[Stares of accusation and guilt]

[laughter and…]

“Your snort when you laugh” says I

“I don’t snort…it’s a nasal exclamation point, sode’ kinda voce’…” protests the snorting woman.

“You’re a terrible liar, too…” I say.


“Did someone just see this lady strike me!?”

[laughter and… a snort giggle]

Y: “I love it when you look at me”

M: “I love it more”

Y: “I love it when you call and ask me if I know how to put out fires”

M: “I really love that more”

Y: “I love it when you look at me…”

M: “You already said that”

“I really meant that part” you say…

“Wanna get naked and wrestle?” asks my inner pig man….

“Perfect” says piggy woman.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s