Love is like a butterfly as soft and gentle as a sigh

It most certainly is not ! Commonly 'love' seems to be an act of compromise entirely motivated by lack. I saw a couple in Gloucester Road this evening. The woman was young, pretty and vile the man was old, ugly and I guess wealthy. She carried a medium sized Birkin bag in Orange - I was perplexed as to why having gone through what ever he put her through in order to secure a £3000 handbag she chose to get it in orange. Orange is my least favourite colour in the world - on the rare occasions that people have given me flowers, if the bouquet contains orange blooms I have always snipped off their ugly heads or plucked them out and dropped them in the bin. This brings me to on to 'hand tied' bouquets - florists always refer to a bunch of weeds with a string around them as 'hand tied' - how the hell else would you tie something - in my minds eye I am seeing Daniel Day Lewis in My Left Foot but I digress... Seeing this strange couple  earlier - it occurred to me that they fitted together exactly like a jigsaw puzzle - what each one had going for them fitted perfectly into the space the lack of it left in the other. It's a beautiful thing.