Fireworks are flowers in the garden sky. My love is like New Year’s Eve, only less predictable and more daily.
I knew I was in love because I had butterflies in my stomach. Also in there I had flowers, a few rainbows, and leftover unicorn from the bbq the day before.
The fact that we’re not lovers makes us more like bees and flowers than rabbits.
I make love like a flower sings. That’s hyperbole, because flowers don’t sing—they only play the guitar.
Drink my Distraction Juice (not from concentrate). It tastes like love, only not so focused on just one ingredient.
I make love with a focus and intensity that most people reserve for sleep.
Two become one when two are in love—or when the waitress asks about our dinner bill. I’ll pay next time, I promise.
Falling in love should be natural, like the food at Moe’s. Baby, I am so hungry for you, even though I know queso costs extra.
I make love like you might make an omelet. At least, I’m hoping you might make an omelet, because I skipped breakfast like a child skips home from the class he just skipped.
She gave me the cold shoulder, so I heated it up in the microwave. Sometimes #love is leftovers.
When there is extra to be eaten, I’ll be there, and I’ll be hungry. When there is more love than people to absorb it all, I’ll be there, and I’ll invite my clones.
I make love like I make dinner. I order take out.
My love is self-contained, like chips in a bag. Don’t eat it all at once.
When I die I’m donating my body to science, because everybody loves a free buffet.
I love food that carries food. Run, waiter, before I eat you too.
Grandpa used to like gravy on everything, including his pancakes. If love could be eaten, I’ll bet he’d prefer it with gravy on top. And I’d have to agree. Love would taste better with gravy.
She asked if I loved another woman, so I answered honestly and said, “Dinner was great, but I could go for dessert.
I love like I’m thirsty. Can I offer you a tall glass of Sahara sand?
Love is a banana. First you peel it, and then you roll on the condom.
We made eyes at each other, and then we made love. We also made other things too, like meatloaf.
Love is like a corn-dog popsicle, and I’m on the Most Wanted list. Unfortunately it’s by the government, specifically the FDA, and not by women.
