“You are the thunderstorm warning and I’m dancing in acid rain.”

I dream about the body I wish I had and all the ways I could be touched in it.

If this love is going to break me, at least make my suffering sweet. I want to know what you taste like in sweltering summer heat.

If there’s still hope for the hopeless, there must be hope for us.

I imagine myself cold as ice falling into your open arms. Everyone says it’s beautiful where I am but I’d rather be where you are.

I write poetry in my sleep because you only visit me in my dreams.

Play me a symphony of love with your tongue. It doesn’t have to be romantic.

I watch in silence as day turns to dusk as our love turns to dust.

Desperate for answers, I go searching in the stars. I ask them: on a scale of one to catastrophe, how beautiful would they say we are?

I used every color on my palette to bring you back to life. Now you paint the most beautiful rainbows in someone else’s skies.

Your lips land on mine like a delicate prayer but I can still taste my mistakes years later.

I am still learning to love all the parts of me you kept hidden.

Static heart. Work of heart. Purify me with a dirty tongue.

Understand my soul – it’s the only love language I care for you to know.

I set sail eagerly and hungrily on the sea of love, to which there is no end in sight – only bright beginnings.

You are a waterfall of a woman. It’s no wonder why you’re always ready to spill.

He looks at me as if I’m the flame and he’s the sea; he’d turn his tide for a chance to burn with me.

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of time like dew on the tip of a leaf.

It was an unwritten law that black comics were not permitted to work white nightclubs. You could sing and you could dance, but you couldn’t stand flat-footed and talk; that was a no-no.

And we love to dance, especially that new one called the Civil War Twist. The Northern part of you stands still while the Southern part tries to secede.

I love attention. If I see a gang of girls? That makes me dance even more!

Not hammer-strokes, but dance of the water, sings the pebbles into perfection.

The dance goes from realizing that you’re separate (which is the awakening) to then trying to find your way back into the totality of which you are not only a part, but which you are.

Our interactions with one another reflect a dance between love and fear.

So basically I did this whole show carrying 100lbs, looking out of one eye, dancing – and then my tits explode at the end. It’s not as easy as it looks!