When Gertrude Stein said, “A rose is a rose is a rose”. She was only half right. I am deeply, profoundly and possibly in love with you; in fact, I would die for you… I would die twice for you. I wouldn’t die three times for you because people would stop taking me seriously. Your every movement is a symphony. Your every word a novel. Your every gesture a Bazooka Joe comic. I think of you almost always. I think of you while I write this. Elephants have big ears. Oops, I stopped thinking about you for a second, but I’m back now… and absence makes the heart grow flounder… although I may have misheard that one. I want to build a temple to your beauty but I cannot find a site I can afford that has decent parking nearby. I want to put you on a magic carpet… one that never loses its pile and stains just lift right out. I want to lie on my back with you and make snow-angels… preferably in the snow; otherwise, we both might look ridiculous. I want to kiss you from head to toe, provided you’ve bathed recently because NO ONE WANTS TRENCH-MOUTH. I want to hold you in my arms until your urge to flee has passed. I want to hear everything that is inside your heart; barring that, I’d gladly listen to your gall bladder or liver. I want to fight for you… assuming I am sufficiently liquored up. I want to dance with you ’til the cows come home; then, I want to milk those cows and make you a flan… a delicious caramel flan; and, if you don’t like flan, well… just forget it, then…
Potatoes and the Promise of More Potatoes 
You lost me at caramel Charles. Caramel is just chocolates poor cousin twice removed if you don’t take into account how close the family really was (if you get my drift)
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I get your drift and I’m shocked!
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you “want” a bit too much… hm, I didn’t expect you are so obsessive 🙂 maybe reading too much Freud? lol
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If I read too much Freud, I’d be ending every sentence with “, mom”…
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👍👍 good one :))😉
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If you dangle caramel, I’ll follow you anywhere.
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It is the food of the gods, isn’t it?
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Is it all in that order? I am just a little concerned with being significantly liquored up and then milking cows and making a flan…
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Well, they weren’t MY cows, Robyn…
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Do people not believe in paragraphs anymore? I keep finding these huge block of text posts that seem rather uninviting to read.
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Sorry, Joanne. I cut my teeth on Melville and James Joyce… Tomorrow’s post will be better behaved…
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