haiku: cherries in winter

deep frozen cherries -
for each of these, a hundred
petals fell in spring

just now, i'm remembering a girl whose name has to do with cherries.
i met her a year and a few months ago, got absolutely DROWNED in romantic feelings, enjoyed a very short, very sweet, very intense time with her, then got dropped by her - she pleaded i was getting too demanding with all my romanticism, and besides she really wanted to be faithful to her 'official' boyfriend. bloody hell. she severed all contacts one angry afternoon, and i lived in acute misery for months.

after these few months, i was still alive. her relationship wasn't: she met a guy from, er, a southern country, left her oh so beloved guy (to whom she was sticking forever, she said) and married the other guy in practically no time.
i only just learned these last few facts.

i don't want to see her EVER again. but still, i haven't yet got back my taste for cherries that i lost with her. so if someone finds a taste for cherries somewhere, gently detach it from a very wild girl (warning: possibly bites) and send it to me. please.

heaven

spend an afternoon in heaven... all you need is a bath like this

and one blue-eyed girl at your side to share the experience *blush*

ever sat in a "sahara-sauna"? it's soooooooo hot, the little fish in my headthought he was going to be boiled, and told me so rather angrily.

what i love about m.

that she hated the same silly gameshows as i when she was small.
that she loved the same kind of white chocolate.

the way she cuddles dogs, especially big fluffy ones.
the way she looks at donkeys, with her big blue eyes.

that she giggles at my cartoons.
that she feels like a velvet cushion, and smells like an exotic flower - such fun waking up beside her.

that she can eat lots of chili.
the way her body looks in a horizontally striped t-shirt.

the way she speaks italian (she's just learning it).
the way she moves her toes (finely shaped, soft, kissable ones).

the kind of socks she wears.
the way she handles her ipod.

her smile when she plays ping pong.
her deeply earnest way of talking and responding to nonsense, and her smiling way of handling serious things.

the way her nose moves when she tastes food she has cooked.
the trance she goes into when watching bollywood movies.

the red of her cheeks, when she has drunk a few glasses of wine, or eaten something VERY spicy.
her lack of blushing, when she pretends to find a compliment embarrassing.

her eyelashes. (they are a pair already, so there is no second line to this.)

the way her hair looks when it hasn't been washed for a week or so.
the reflections of burning candles in her eyes.

the way she says "not yet" when i ask "breakfast?", and
the way she says nothing when i say nothing.

her woolly black cap, that makes her look like some kind of smurf.
her scolding my vanity, when i go out at -15°C without any cap.

her good manners (and i tell you, i usually HATE good manners).
the way she falls asleep in front of her tv, and wakes up when the simpsons come on.

her queenly way of sharing a blanket.
her dignified way of eating buttered toast.

that she likes tukans.
that she doesn't object to my posting this, though she won't read it because it's too much like a poem, which she doesn't like at all.