(no subject)
I do believe that it is that time again. Time for me to write something all inspiring that woos the hearts of the lonely.....right.
Thoughts of my hands as I rub them together in the chill of the mornings air bring thoughts of her. Her hands smaller than mine. Fingers long and aristocratic in appearance. Delicate and adorned with rings. How would her smallish hand feel clasp tightly within mine? Mine are rough, for I have tarried some in the soil. I like to work in my gardens. I like to make things with my hands and have the use of tools. I like to fix my own car. All things that have added calluses to hands once soft. Just how would she respond to my rough touch? Textured skin scraping over smooth creamy white curves.
I was thinking of a random subject like toasters. I thought that might pique everyone's bore o’ meters. I know it did mine. Yet, here I sit with nothing to really say about them. I haven’t even really thought about it before and now that I’m trying to I can’t come up with much. Let’s see…hmmm.. They make toast. They make very good toast, unless of course you set them wrong and then they make very black toast. Then you can get a butter knife and scrape it and try to salvage what’s left. It’s just not the same though. Burnt toast tastes like burnt toast whether you scrape off the black or not. That sort of sounds like a metaphor of some kind does it not?
Thoughts of my hands as I rub them together in the chill of the mornings air bring thoughts of her. Her hands smaller than mine. Fingers long and aristocratic in appearance. Delicate and adorned with rings. How would her smallish hand feel clasp tightly within mine? Mine are rough, for I have tarried some in the soil. I like to work in my gardens. I like to make things with my hands and have the use of tools. I like to fix my own car. All things that have added calluses to hands once soft. Just how would she respond to my rough touch? Textured skin scraping over smooth creamy white curves.
I was thinking of a random subject like toasters. I thought that might pique everyone's bore o’ meters. I know it did mine. Yet, here I sit with nothing to really say about them. I haven’t even really thought about it before and now that I’m trying to I can’t come up with much. Let’s see…hmmm.. They make toast. They make very good toast, unless of course you set them wrong and then they make very black toast. Then you can get a butter knife and scrape it and try to salvage what’s left. It’s just not the same though. Burnt toast tastes like burnt toast whether you scrape off the black or not. That sort of sounds like a metaphor of some kind does it not?