Its still there. I haven’t moved it, its in the exact same place as before and still has a slight coffee stain on it. My housemates have seen me staring at it intently so they dare not move it either. I’m not sure if they know its yours but they probably suspect.
I’m scared that if I wash it and put it back in the drawer I will start to forget you. Your face will start to fade from my memory and I will no longer recall the sound of your laugh.
Licking the side of the spoon, he turned to glare at the man. How dare this person think that just because he was done eating the food on his plate, that the ritual of food consumption was over at all? No. This would not do. It looked like another lesson was needed.
The spoon lay on the table, still wet from where it had been just a few moments ago. The dark haired boy just moaned a bit, clinging to the high that left him breathless.
He would die to have another taste of chocolate ice cream.
The process of eating on the go and drinking coffee to keep a body moving through working multiple jobs, enjoyable conversation, and the consumption of novels requires one thing over everything else: a spoon. Or at least that’s what it seemed like when I worked as ASM for a theater this one time.
This morning I ate my Frosted Flakes with a broken spoon. the metal part was coming off and all that was left was the green plastic. What a great start to a long day. I can tell, just by this spoon breaking, that this day will be hell. No, worse, it will never end.
I hated doing it but I know that she loved it, so I did it anyway. My right arm was underneath her neck, cradling her head on my shoulder. My legs and hips melted into hers, and every breath she took made me shudder. It was then that I realized that finding “the one” meant finding a girl who would let me be the little spoon.
The mirror of all sorts. Twisting and dementing all images in it’s shiny surface. A new perspective of a simple reflection. The best way to see your self.
The spoon is silver, usually. Unless by some chance my brother decides to murder someone with it again. In which case it has a nice crimson coating, attractive but not tasty. I wonder sometimes where he hides the bodies. However thats the least of my concerns. I just want a bowl of cereal.
Oh to spoon a lover, the sensuous wave of flesh nestled to flesh. spoon to spoon. touching, simply letting touch guide and direct the flow of experience. no thought, no mind, just sensation. delicous sensation.
something that I use to eat cereal with. a game that i laerned to play in college. something that i never have enough of that are clean for my family to use. I thing that they get thrown away with the trash. I do not know how
Spoon, something we use to eat. Simple, profound. But one can also think about the curvature of such AN OBJECT. Is it the curvature of another dimension? maybe time itself is linked to what we use to feed ourselves.
I LOVE TO USE A SPOON IT IS NOT A GREAT TOOL FOR CUTTING MEAT. YOU CAN PLAY MUSIC WITH YOUR SPOON IF YOU HAVE ANOTHER ONE. YOU CAN USE YOUR SPOON FOR SOUP AND FOR CEREAL. WHAT A GREAT INVENTION THE SPOON REALLY IS.
lynette heard the lock slide into place, then the click of the light switch. the room went dark. pitch black. she wondered if it was possible to kill someone with a spoon for that was all she found in the bedside table. a single spoon left over from last night’s yogurt.
i can stick a spoon to almost any part of my body. sometimes i feel like that sticky man who’s in the world record book for the most spoons stuck to him, or the most anything stuck to him, but i’m a girl and i’m much more attractive than him. besides, it isn’t my skin that’s sticky, it must be my spit.
it’s fun to spoon in bed for a little while. Then my arm starts to fall asleep and I get too warm and have to turn over. I wish I could do it all night but that never happens.
She stared at the silver spoon, lying innocently on the table admist the intricate pattern of gold plates, cutlery and food that adorned the high table. She didn’t shift in her chair despite her mother’s annoying high rippling laugh and the suffocating bodice restricting her chest. She kept her head held high.
I took the clean spoon out from the dish water and started to dry it. I could see everything in it’s relefctio: the tv, the couches, the chairs, my little brother playing with his super bouncy ball and that’s when I saw it, out of the corner of my eye, a man. Standing in the corner of the living room , dressed in all black, watching my brother.
uhm, lying in bed . . . spooning. Warm, tired, clouded window with soap on the edges of my tongue – a crinkle of paper box with the lid torn off on the edges of my brain – painted glass signs on the walls.
A dark, somewhat metallic, object appears circular. I find myself attracted to a tool that not only changes humanity’s sheer lifespan, but improves it to undeniable heights. You, my friend, are my true love. Without it, the slop and chaos would erupt.
Waiting for my next client I realize how very much I dislike being kept waiting. And yet tardiness is one of my greatest character flaws. I mean, what’s good for the fork is good for the spoon. I better just cool my jets and let karma do its work!
spooning is very nice. i always say the big spoon is the cheating spoon. it is very strange how a eating utensil can also be used for a word that is used in bedroom ituatuions. i want to eat something with a s[oon now. like yogurt
I want to spoon you. That’s all I want, is to cuddle. But you’re getting cozy next to her, shattering my heart without knowing the damage you are doing.
What to do with a spoon? He had to dig a hole the size of a house, and all he had was a spoon. Could he Tom Sawyer his way out of this one? Not too likely – little boys of today were far too bright to fall for that.
The spoon is a wonderful thing, despite the fact, that it does not exist. It is shiny and round yet long and lean. It fits in your mouth and kind of melts into it. Sucking on a spoon is like having oral sex with someone you love. It is nice.
Maurice liked to tap spoons on unpolished countertops at diners, wear your mother’s million dollar red lipstick. His favorite thing to hear you say was “Would you like to draw me” and posed unabashedly when he thought you were paying attention to him. Curled in a ball early at night, he sang songs with his grandpa’s pet parakeet.
spoon, let’s cuddle. when i was little i watched some weird show on tv about how people bent spoons with their minds and i tried for so long to do it… never worked. i like spoons better than forks. i love those rounded spoons you eat soup with, theyre so much nicer than the other ones. cereal, ice cream, fryoo, letsss cuddleee and spoon.
Its not like a fork, and not like a knife. Instead, its easier to use. Who would believe something so simple could be so useful. Where would we be without you, spoon? Still drinking soup from bowls like commoners?! No… never again. There is no going back.
I love to spoon. I love to be held that close and snuggly with nothing put our bare skin touching. Priceless. I love knowing that he loves me enough to spoon. And not feel silly.
As I lay nestled in his arms I felt the closeness that a perfectly matched shape can bring forth – Yes spooning is probably about the best invention on earth…. right up there with ice cream and vaseline. — duct tape too
Its still there. I haven’t moved it, its in the exact same place as before and still has a slight coffee stain on it. My housemates have seen me staring at it intently so they dare not move it either. I’m not sure if they know its yours but they probably suspect.
I’m scared that if I wash it and put it back in the drawer I will start to forget you. Your face will start to fade from my memory and I will no longer recall the sound of your laugh.
Licking the side of the spoon, he turned to glare at the man. How dare this person think that just because he was done eating the food on his plate, that the ritual of food consumption was over at all? No. This would not do. It looked like another lesson was needed.
The spoon lay on the table, still wet from where it had been just a few moments ago. The dark haired boy just moaned a bit, clinging to the high that left him breathless.
He would die to have another taste of chocolate ice cream.
nuzzled softly against his body protection from the nothing that wakes me from my sleep
i have no spon in my home i eat my food by my hand. i am going to buy spoon from supermarket.
The process of eating on the go and drinking coffee to keep a body moving through working multiple jobs, enjoyable conversation, and the consumption of novels requires one thing over everything else: a spoon. Or at least that’s what it seemed like when I worked as ASM for a theater this one time.
This morning I ate my Frosted Flakes with a broken spoon. the metal part was coming off and all that was left was the green plastic. What a great start to a long day. I can tell, just by this spoon breaking, that this day will be hell. No, worse, it will never end.
I hated doing it but I know that she loved it, so I did it anyway. My right arm was underneath her neck, cradling her head on my shoulder. My legs and hips melted into hers, and every breath she took made me shudder. It was then that I realized that finding “the one” meant finding a girl who would let me be the little spoon.
The mirror of all sorts. Twisting and dementing all images in it’s shiny surface. A new perspective of a simple reflection. The best way to see your self.
getting spooned in the, passed by a mother, trucker drives fast and its so hot that drivings a bitch
The spoon is silver, usually. Unless by some chance my brother decides to murder someone with it again. In which case it has a nice crimson coating, attractive but not tasty. I wonder sometimes where he hides the bodies. However thats the least of my concerns. I just want a bowl of cereal.
Oh to spoon a lover, the sensuous wave of flesh nestled to flesh. spoon to spoon. touching, simply letting touch guide and direct the flow of experience. no thought, no mind, just sensation. delicous sensation.
something that I use to eat cereal with. a game that i laerned to play in college. something that i never have enough of that are clean for my family to use. I thing that they get thrown away with the trash. I do not know how
Spoon, something we use to eat. Simple, profound. But one can also think about the curvature of such AN OBJECT. Is it the curvature of another dimension? maybe time itself is linked to what we use to feed ourselves.
I LOVE TO USE A SPOON IT IS NOT A GREAT TOOL FOR CUTTING MEAT. YOU CAN PLAY MUSIC WITH YOUR SPOON IF YOU HAVE ANOTHER ONE. YOU CAN USE YOUR SPOON FOR SOUP AND FOR CEREAL. WHAT A GREAT INVENTION THE SPOON REALLY IS.
fork. knife.
spooning. love. compassion. marriage.
round. nose. goofy. silly.
lynette heard the lock slide into place, then the click of the light switch. the room went dark. pitch black. she wondered if it was possible to kill someone with a spoon for that was all she found in the bedside table. a single spoon left over from last night’s yogurt.
If a fork can run away with a spoon, who says a man cannot be with a man?
If a fork can spoon a spoon and a spoon can spoon a fork, then why cant the fork be with other forks?
i can stick a spoon to almost any part of my body. sometimes i feel like that sticky man who’s in the world record book for the most spoons stuck to him, or the most anything stuck to him, but i’m a girl and i’m much more attractive than him. besides, it isn’t my skin that’s sticky, it must be my spit.
it’s fun to spoon in bed for a little while. Then my arm starts to fall asleep and I get too warm and have to turn over. I wish I could do it all night but that never happens.
I like spoons. Spoons are like pansy little forks. For soup. Like if a fork and a knife had a baby, it would be a spoon. Totally.
She stared at the silver spoon, lying innocently on the table admist the intricate pattern of gold plates, cutlery and food that adorned the high table. She didn’t shift in her chair despite her mother’s annoying high rippling laugh and the suffocating bodice restricting her chest. She kept her head held high.
I took the clean spoon out from the dish water and started to dry it. I could see everything in it’s relefctio: the tv, the couches, the chairs, my little brother playing with his super bouncy ball and that’s when I saw it, out of the corner of my eye, a man. Standing in the corner of the living room , dressed in all black, watching my brother.
uhm, lying in bed . . . spooning. Warm, tired, clouded window with soap on the edges of my tongue – a crinkle of paper box with the lid torn off on the edges of my brain – painted glass signs on the walls.
A dark, somewhat metallic, object appears circular. I find myself attracted to a tool that not only changes humanity’s sheer lifespan, but improves it to undeniable heights. You, my friend, are my true love. Without it, the slop and chaos would erupt.
It’s bitter, which is why she loves it. Memories of a broken world, liquified, a cure universal.
een lepel voor de soep en een lepel voor de suiker. Een lepel voor de saus en een lepel om te roeren.
I picked up the spoon and realized, I didn’t really want to eat. I just wanted to sit.
So I sat and looked at the spoon, waiting for inspiration to strike.
Waiting for my next client I realize how very much I dislike being kept waiting. And yet tardiness is one of my greatest character flaws. I mean, what’s good for the fork is good for the spoon. I better just cool my jets and let karma do its work!
spooning is very nice. i always say the big spoon is the cheating spoon. it is very strange how a eating utensil can also be used for a word that is used in bedroom ituatuions. i want to eat something with a s[oon now. like yogurt
I want to spoon you. That’s all I want, is to cuddle. But you’re getting cozy next to her, shattering my heart without knowing the damage you are doing.
What to do with a spoon? He had to dig a hole the size of a house, and all he had was a spoon. Could he Tom Sawyer his way out of this one? Not too likely – little boys of today were far too bright to fall for that.
The spoon is a wonderful thing, despite the fact, that it does not exist. It is shiny and round yet long and lean. It fits in your mouth and kind of melts into it. Sucking on a spoon is like having oral sex with someone you love. It is nice.
Maurice liked to tap spoons on unpolished countertops at diners, wear your mother’s million dollar red lipstick. His favorite thing to hear you say was “Would you like to draw me” and posed unabashedly when he thought you were paying attention to him. Curled in a ball early at night, he sang songs with his grandpa’s pet parakeet.
laying in bed, with a big warm spoon behind me :) we actually have our own word of it :) spoon with me baby ;)
spoon, let’s cuddle. when i was little i watched some weird show on tv about how people bent spoons with their minds and i tried for so long to do it… never worked. i like spoons better than forks. i love those rounded spoons you eat soup with, theyre so much nicer than the other ones. cereal, ice cream, fryoo, letsss cuddleee and spoon.
Its not like a fork, and not like a knife. Instead, its easier to use. Who would believe something so simple could be so useful. Where would we be without you, spoon? Still drinking soup from bowls like commoners?! No… never again. There is no going back.
i love to spoon spooning is lovely. you just eel ever so safe in the person youre spooning withs arms, so loved. i havent spooned in a while. :/
I love to spoon. I love to be held that close and snuggly with nothing put our bare skin touching. Priceless. I love knowing that he loves me enough to spoon. And not feel silly.
As I lay nestled in his arms I felt the closeness that a perfectly matched shape can bring forth – Yes spooning is probably about the best invention on earth…. right up there with ice cream and vaseline. — duct tape too