LOVE IS A CONCUSSION OF THE SOUL
One look, and I want desperately to take your breath away for a dirty weekend.
When I glimpse down your blouse, my heart pounds like two deaf cats tap-dancing on an old wash-tub.
This isn't just love, for when my soul falls into your eyes I know that on the great sweater of life, I've found another fuzz-ball like myself.
Someone who wouldn't look at a print of Da Vinci's "Last Supper", and ask what a table like that would cost, nowadays.
Someone who knows that love isn't what you have to do if you can't find your TV Guide
anywhere.
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