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a missile fly into the sky.

The tunnel of love.

This river trills ill sounds above and all around and in the sky, mounted doves pretend to fly, where broken hearts, six feet tall, dangled, swain, threatened to fall. A muddy tube that aims its bow, intent to sink your back toe.

But we sail on with five stories left.

This next one flows a bit bereft.

Stale love turn to strife.

A secret admirer renews its life.

But watch this marriage grow remose.

Gather round and listen close. The There was a box of Swiss chocolates resting on my doorstep, all wrapped up in a frilly red ribbon.

I carried them into the kitchen, pulled off the lid.

Inside was a heart-shaped card that read,

a tasty treat for the sweetest guy I know.

Just then, my wife shuffled through the door, groggy, and still half asleep.

What are those?

She asked as she passed the kitchen counter.

You mean you didn't send them?

Suddenly alert, she stopped, reached over and snatched the card away.

A married man receiving an anonymous gift is pretty

damning in and of itself but the note was all the noose Melissa needed to hang me

with. No seriously. Who sent these? She asked, her piercing brown eyes

...