His kiss went through her like a drawing pin pushed into a cork notice board didn’t.
The wedding ring was a safety pin restyled by a Tiger’s jaw
Her sewing looked like she used a nappy pin for speed.
His nails felt like horns from a beetle tickling her skin.
His embrace was as fierce as a moth’s eye looking at cashmere.
But not tested by human hand
Her nails shone like fake pearls in moonlight on the beach in Morecambe.
How my heart sings 