Just the right amount of squeeze 

at my hip

of a lemon 

on the pasta we craft for each other

of the sponge he knows I don’t like to touch when wet.

A tongue, a croissant, a bottom smack, 

exactly when we wanted one

A well-timed tease, balletically treading that tightrope line 

from this now, to the next, to the next to the next please

Moments studded above our ...

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Another New Year’s Morning.

Smoked and smooth-whisky aged brain with a stab in the right temple.

Start as you mean to go on.

The primary glee of proverbial blank slates fresh starts new year new me           (new you, hopefully)

Rubbing my hands together and over the smooth cream pages of 2021

Ready to splatter in powder paint blue red yellow black pink pink pink..

A Ne...

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