I hate it when,
long after my guest leaves
I go to my bathroom
and realize there are dirty knickers
lying behind the door,
in a pile, in the corner,
on the floor.
Bugger, I say, and bloody hell.
Guess it still went
pretty well.
For even as I write this,
The taste of
a first kiss
still lingers, still warm
on my lips.
This post brought to you by Kristi Hines
Kristi Hines is a freelance writer, creator of Kikolani, and owner of a dofollow directory which lists 150+ blogs, social networks, and more.
Kristi has written 268 awesome article(s) for Kikolani.
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