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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She and her gang of cardboard valentines"

They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
She is a night of dark trees, but he who is not afraid of her darkness will find banks full of roses under her cypresses
She knows no truth except her own.
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
she lit her thumb on fire
She was never mine. I always shared her.
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
She asked me to read her a poem
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
She always confused her greys with white.
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
she had already found her party
the way she wears her weary
She always was devious in her beauty
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
She Will Have Her Way
does she need to touch her own face to know?
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
She practices her speech
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
she gave her heart to a falling star
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
She flies with her own wings
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
In a quiet grove of pines under a frosty sky, he helped her out of the sack. She wore severe white hospital pajamas and was beautiful.
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
serene. She sips her tea
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
At night, her eyes closed, she would
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
she doesn't write, doesn't tell you stories, but somehow it's her words that spring to mind at those crucial, terrifying moments, and for that you are eternally grateful
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
The portion of her face she allows me to see
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
Susan Goldman, who has cervical cancer, is partly thankful as she braces herself but changes her mind as she's sprayed with burning jet fuel.
She thought about giving him her heart
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She keeps her lies everywhere
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
I don't like her because she won't like me
cardboard box
No Left Turn Unstoned (Cardboard Cowboy)
Big fish, little fish, cardboard box
The importance of cardboard boxes
Cardboard Programmers
gang
Bee Mine, or Why I Hate Valentine's Day
Gang Starr
Gang of Four
motorcycle gang
Water gang
gang bang
GANG gajang
Press Gang
Gang warfare at your local Burger King
Cosmo Gangs The Video
The Apple Dumpling Gang
Black gang
Gashouse Gang
The Gas House Gang
Gangs of New York
The Buttercream Gang
Gang Show
The True History of the Kelly Gang
Winter Hill Gang
gang culture
18th Street Gang
The Monkey Wrench Gang
Sydney gang rapes
The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover
hers
her
The Ground Beneath Her Feet
Her braid; I obeyed
On Her Majesty's Secret Service
Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition
The Milk-Woman and Her Pail
The Bitch and Her Whelps
The Lark Burying Her Father
The Woman and Her Hen
The Lark and Her Young Ones
I don't think of her
I can see her face
her lips on mine
I never saw her again
a total loss of control over her life
I do not see her
Now I know why I get the urge to kill her
Someone set her face on fire and put it out with an anchor chain
Her Royal Highness
If this were in person, I would have kissed her now
Her Handwriting
Written with a Diamond on her Window at Woodstock
Take Her in Your Arms
To Her Door
I was sure it was her
Stand in the doorway and watch her
The Saran Wrap Dominatrix and Her Cellophane Bondage Slave
Since I left her
All acts of love and pleasure are her rituals
A Jury of Her Peers
A Jury of Her Peers: 2
The sad thing is, if you get her you'll be sick of her in a year
watching her dance
Her hands on my back; slipping into sleep
Herr Bob (user)
dance with her
I met Death face to face, and I mocked her!
I never called her momma
Bathe her and bring her to me
I still find strands of her hair in bed
Her knees

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