My Brand of Poetry

I make my favorite Ohio native leek, potato, and Italian sausage soup for dinner. After many approving nods and an empty bowl later, he gives me a big bear hug and says "if the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, then my love for your grows three times a day."

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We're in a car heading to his work. He has this silly grin on his face. I ask him what he's thinking. His response: "we're like Ron and Hermione."

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