Sunday, February 12, 2012

Women on Men; Men on Women

I like handkerchief’s, he says, one in every colour because they are loyal. 
She reclines in her chair and watches him unfold his loyalty from his breast pocket.
Everytime she extends such silences, he accepts her no-response as a response because he knows she likes what he says; he knows he intrigues her.
Everything he does is tiresome, she thinks.  Except when he pulls things out of his pockets. 
She smirks.

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