Bread pudding in my climate-controlled cubicle is starchy heaven.
Spherical and blue, perfection to gaze upon - fresh-picked blueberries.
July to August. Thirteen months, and what have I to show? Confidence.
The balaclava makes our kisses in the cold more of a challenge.
Ice on my mustache, formed while waiting for the bus, delights my fingers.
Static electric discharge on my penis is a winter hazard.
This peanut butter and hot pepper jam sandwich spices the winter.kevin@aq.org