the cold outside makes my face red.

mmmmm

i like sunshine
that brightens the mood
and makes skin so warm
and breaths so light.

he's rather good at playing games.

he spells out words
like 'quizzical'
and 'xylophone'
when we play scrabble.

he laughs lightly when
he informs me that
made up words don't count.

what bullshittedness.

i'd kiss him over
the game board
but he might think i'm cheating,
looking at his squares.

he'd be right.

he looks me in the eye
as he lays down his final squares:

c-u-p-c-a-k-e.

he wins.
I lose.
fuck.
me.
baby.