Thursday, May 24, 2007


I smelt his shirt. Then i smelt his hankerchief.

I wagged my finger in his face for smoking on the sly.
You almost quit, i rued.

He grinned sheepishly. His smile wreaking of guilt, much like his kerchief.

I kissed him then. And made up, nonetheless.

Wifely. Wife-y.

1 comment:

little boxes said...

very nice...n sweet
i completely identify with that...