Do you like it when I kiss you here? [kiss]
Yes. I do.
How much? [look]
Hm. Can you kiss me again there…
Yeah. That’s good.
How good, though?
[kiss while looking]
It’s better than a strawberry milkshake. But not as good as a rootbeer float.1
[kiss (while looking)]
It’s like chicken teriyaki, or Hawaiian fast food– tastes like macaroni salad and cabbage and densely packed rice.
[kiss, but quick & gentle]
It’s as good as the best Beverly Cleary. Clear, concise, and crisp like a time machine.
[kiss with superfluous ribstickling tongue]
It’s the Weird Al of kisses: not that funny, tries too hard, but you sort of like it anyways.
[kiss, mashed up but terse]
It’s rain– hard rain– car washing the windshields of the coffeehouse I’ve been sitting in for four hours while I sip a cold hot chocolate, or guava soda, and read. And look.
[kiss, slow and sincere]
It’s the eighth best place you can kiss me, the 12th best place you can put your mouth.
Lip half on my ear, telling me all of your secrets.2
redacted; others: It’s better than the elliptical but not quite the stationary bike.
- It’s better than network, but it’s still TV– not HBO.
- It’s better than global warming but not worth ditching my car for.
- It’s better than a punch in the face, much better.
- It’s better than the last 80 minutes of Up, but not the first 10 minutes of Up.
- It’s better than a Hot Pastrami, but it’s no Reuben: King of the Sandwiches.
- It talks like Imperial Bedroom but walks like Blood & Chocolate
- It speaks softly and drives a Sherman tank
- It’s better than Midway, and it’s better than O’Hare. Fuck Chicago’s airports.
- It’s better than Taco Bell, just about Chipotle.
- An authentic mole, on the other hand…
2While you finger me until I cry.