I like seeing little kids in shopping carts. It's good practice for when they turn 18 & have to spend the rest of their lives in jail cells.
I asked if she wanted kids. She said her clock is ticking. I said, That’s because I set it five minutes ahead when you weren’t looking.
What I got out of church was a love of God, and a detestable feeling for the men standing in the way of Him—and the buffet in the banquet hall. Stand aside—I’m starving!
The stranger was as white as a gallon of milk, and I felt the desire to pour his soul into my coffee. I’d drink him like the ghost of my grandpa.
I drink coffee like I urinate—alone, or in large groups. Sometimes I wish I knew the secret handshake.
I once said hello to a pack of goodbyes, but they were asleep to my coffee offering. They were running towards love, which is always running away from me.
Morning coffee is my preferred method of starting my evening. I make love all the time half the time. That half is night. Wake me up when it’s ready.
I am the coffee, and God is The Barista. Through me, he may awaken your soul. But the coffee knows not what flows through the mind of The Barista.
I laughed so hard I nearly spit out my hot tea. The strange part was the fact that I was drinking coffee at that moment.
I’ll put some ice in your coffee, to cover up the fact that it was already cold and old. I do this because my love for you is slightly warmer and newer.
To most people, if you’re muttering, you might as well be speaking a foreign language. I should know, because in college I took two years of muttering.
I don’t know how to say it without saying it, so I’ll just not say it. Or I could show it, because that’s the only way to make love visible.
We agreed to meet at 4. I meant AM and she meant PM, so we both just stood around thinking we’d been stood up.
I talked to David yesterday, but since it is a statue, it didn’t talk back. I have to say, it was a better conversationalist than my last date.
I have an ill-fitting jacket. It looks sick. It has an “I Voted” sticker on it, so perhaps it’s as disgusted with politics as politicians are disgusting.
I remember her words about remembering my words, and that’s when it hit me: the quickest way to scalpel open a heart is with a declaration of love.
I haven’t had a birthday party in a while, probably because I’m not really into celebrating myself. Especially not for an achievement (the creation of me) that I did not contribute too.
Instead of reciting her an original love poem using words, I think I’ll use my tongue to more creatively explore the deepest parts of her.
My love is shaped like a dog whistle—the sound, not the thing. As a lover, I’m a fighter. But dogs have more bark than me—and so do trees.
Our two hands were held together by love—and adhesive. Let no man separate what God hath joined together! Is it crazy? Yes—Krazy Glue.
I’m glad the government can’t tax love, because I’d owe them a lot of it. And I’d be forced to tell them how much my ex wife stole.
