love is a duet

two people harmonising and syncopating together. there's no occasion for others to scramble onstage to join in. there's no occasion for what samantha, in "sex in the city", calls "guest stars". it doesn't need backing vocals. the act succeeds or fails on its own.

one
plus
one
equals
fun.

early morning, maudlin street

at the risk of sounding like d. h. lawrence, whenever i wander by the nighclub district i see sex out enjoying itself. meanwhile love pines away at home, passing the hours watching "desperate housewives". do you think we could get these two together on a blind date? because i suspect they'd make a lovely couple.

casting call

there are lots of lovers:

avid lovers
reluctant their-heart's-not-in-it lovers
selfish my-pleasure-comes-first lovers
greedy you're-not-the-only-one-i-do-this-with lovers
demanding do-this-do-that lovers
sweet tender lovers
quiet you-wouldn't-know-what-they-felt lovers
noisy shrieking-overacting lovers
anything goes lovers
silly giggle-prone lovers (restored by reader's request)
temporary you'll-do-for-now lovers
relics-from-old-relationships lovers
perverse lovers
generous lovers
brooding lovers
dull unimaginative lovers
not-passionate-but-loving-and-dear lovers
shallow this-is-just-sex lovers.

the best lovers in the world aren't those who go go go all night and shake you awake in the morning wanting more. no.

the best lovers in the world are those who talk. talk about what's inside. and let us in. deep deep within. to a place rich and strange. to the secret centre of their hearts. and make us feel comfortable. and let us stay there. rent free. for as long as we like.

love is

a bus which, when it finally arrives, is too full to admit any more passengers. so we stand at our stop, looking this way and that, hoping for the next one.