by victoryskunkhand

His love is like a drug and I cannot get enough. 

No, his love is like an ocean, and I am lost in it.

Or perhaps his love is like the sky, and I could fly away in it if I would, but I would rather just sit and stare.

No, no. I know what it’s like. It’s like a dogwood, a new flower blossoming every day, becoming brighter and whiter and more beautiful all the time.

Or it could be that the love he has for me is like my love for him. Maybe that’s it. Maybe our love is the same love, bouncing back and forth between us. That would make all the sense in the world. Don’t you think?