this soapy ring finger. it slips through
mud
it whirls around the muddy confines
searching for a lost stone. and
its bewildered wide eye clung to my forehead
dragging my gnarly brow over my eye.
but suddenly i feel.
i feel
i feel the roaring
the nashing
the horror
that breaks my blind bones
and for the insinkerator that bites my hand
it gnashes its teeth
and tears into my flesh
Just recently, I read an article on the 5 worst ways to “pop the question” on Yahoo.
As I was reading, I was shocked when I heard that someone had the audacity to ask the question on Twitter. The conversation went something like this:
“To @emilychang – After fifteen years of blissful happiness I would like to ask for your hand in marriage?”
“@maxkiesler – yes, i do.”
When I read this, I couldn’t help but think, “What happened to privacy and romance?” I would hate to be proposed to in any way other than face to face, with my partner on one knee. But of course, that’s just me.
OVS Journalism Blog 