Sweetheart, I’ve got you under my skin. I’ll wash and wash, but you’ll never come out.
Roses are red, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet, and I think I left the iron on.
I’m crazy for you! Get it?
BE MINE. Wait. That has six letters. Six letters is so unlucky. It’s like YOU DIE. That’s exactly what it’s like. Now you’re going to die and it’s all my fault.
Honey, I’m hot for you! It’s like a fever. Do you think it’s viral meningitis? I bet it is. I touched the light switch and who knows what germs were on there. Then I thought about you, and infected you—it’s a viral brain infection, so of course it’s transmitted through brain waves, that makes perfect sense. We should probably just drive to the hospital right now.
You’re all I think about. Literally!
You and me, sitting in a tree—oh, wait, that doesn’t sound very safe, does it? Let’s say we’re sitting on a couch instead. Huh. I wonder who sat on this couch before us. Maybe we should put some plastic wrap down. Yeah, I think we’d better. Is this a new box of plastic wrap, or has it been opened for a while? Are you sure? OK. OK. Let’s just say it’s new and move on. So we’re sitting on a couch, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Except that I kind of feel this tingle on my lip? Like I might be getting a cold sore? Maybe we should just forget the whole thing.
It’s hard to tell, what with all the SSRIs in my bloodstream, but I think I feel something for you.
I’d touch you without gloves. If I could, I mean.
I love you. Wait. That didn’t feel right. Let me try it again. I love you. Don’t think about disease. Don’t think about disease. Don’t think about disease. I love you. There.