Codswallop ---------- October 2017 I asked her, once, what she thought. You know, about this whole mess. And she said to me with eyes soaked in seriousness: Do you honestly /believe/ that love feels like that? Like gulping a smoothie that's far too cold? A smoothie that makes you far too bold? Or-- (and now her eyes began to rise) Or would you entertain the possibility that it doesn't, not at all? That there is more to love than a midnight phone call? Because, you see, I have found (experimentally, of course) That love, well, Love is like a cup of tea. It makes you feel old. It makes you wish for a hand to hold. And she picked up her yellow number-two pencil And went right back to work And left me to wonder And sigh.