Cubic Conversations

One stick of wagyu came up

Four tiny pieces for three bucks

Can I have one, you ask

I say,  you can have two

For wagyu is best when shared with you 



Cheesiness interrupted

Talked turned serious

Where this certain piece of meat

Came from and bred

For wagyu is not your typical red 



What’s the fuss?

Why pay too much?

These little fatty cubes

In your mouth they melt

For wagyu is not just tasted, it is felt



Our last remaining cubes

In our tongues, roll

Before we chew

Before we swallow

For wagyu is 

Heart to Heart

Lying in bed on our side

Our eyes locked

My hand in yours

And your heart in mine

 

Midnight conversations

Our rendezvous as of late

Honest

Pure and uninhibited

 

You told me

For the first time, probably

What you really want

Out of life

 

And right here

In this moment

My life is no longer

Mine and mine alone.

A Lesson on Honks

On our way to the dentist, a motorcycle from another lane suddenly made a sharp u-turn in a restricted area, cutting us off.

The husband did his favorite extended “honk“, his way of saying, “Dude! Not cool!”.

Not surprisingly, the motorcycle made an equally extended, if not longer, “honk“. It was probably his way of saying, “What now, arrogant person?”.

Curiously, I asked: “Does it work? Would he know he’s wrong?”

He answered, “At least you did something. Maybe he’ll think about it later and realize it.”

These are just a few things where our line of thinking differs. For me, someone who deliberately disregards rules would not shed a single minute of his day thinking about the wrong thing that he did. Chances are, he would celebrate how he evaded the traffic, with total disregard of the other drivers on the road. Worse, he’s probably laughing at the rule-abiding-goody-two-shoes who he thinks are just not “street smart” enough. So what’s the use?

But my husband thinks not the same. Where I am the “choose your battles” type of person, he’s the “fight the good fight” kind, you know? Sometimes, I notice that it’s slowly rubbing on me. It’s annoying but quite comforting, I would say.