A boy in my class told a tale of how he and another made love in the kitchen 

How they blended peach and banana into a sultry smoothie

How they knocked everything off the countertops

And made a huge mess that he had to clean up later

I smiled 

I told him of how I too made love in my kitchen

With a group of my friends

We made pesto sauce with heavy whipping cream 

to put on our asparagus and tortellini

I said,

Unlike you, I left my mess

I left everything on the counters;

because I was too lazy to clean it up

Yeah,

I know I’m dirty

 

My love isn’t like his 

It isn’t chocolate covered strawberries

It’s more of a ripe, red tomato

It’s vegetative

My love isn’t kept for a special someone

My love is shared with all of my friends

 

My friends and I

We’re about that tough love

Together we sprouted from the dirt

We’re crisp and cool

The cream of the crop 

Call us the cabbage patch kids

Our love is ingrained and deep rooted

Without romance, just romaine 

We’re peas in a pod 

Not horny, just corny

We Netflix and Chill in the best way,

like the couch potatoes that we are 

We cut it up in the garden 

We turnip to our own beet

Our friendship flourishes under the sun

Our love a sweet potato so sweet

 

The boy in my class told me that I’m a prude prune

That my kind of love isn’t the real kind of love

That it’s not fervent, not fruitful

 told me that there should be an apple of my eye

That I should want to peel its skin

And juice it 

That I’ve condemned myself to the life of a lonely lemon

I reply,

There’s no need to be such a rutabaga 

I yam who I yam 

And while there’s no apple for my eyes,

My friends are the tomato in my chest

They are my garden, 

And when you have a garden, you are never alone 

My love is the real dill

And if you can’t see that,

Then you should get to know a carrot or two

Lettuce toss our salads in our own way 

 

 

Love isn’t always like an orchard

Not always meant to be picked and peeled fruit 

Not always plowed earth and planted seed

Sometimes love is like my kind of love

Inviting friends over for dinner 

Sitting at a table covered with fresh produce

Enamored by everyone’s 24 carrot smiles

Feeling full

Not wanting to eat anything

Or anyone