"In the grand farce of love, we play the fool,
With hearts that juggle multiple flames, like a fire-breathing rule.
We're polyamorous acrobats, balancing acts of desire,
Tolerating the circus of flaws, with a heart that's on fire.

But oh, the tragic comedy of errors we commit,
Loving all, yet none, like a master chef with a recipe to quit.
Our hearts are culinary disasters, with flavors that clash and blend,
A gastronomic nightmare, where love's the main dish that offends.

So let's raise a glass to the love that's true,
Not the diluted cocktail we serve, with a heart that's turned blue.
For in the depths of our soul, a gourmet chef resides,
Cooking up a love that's authentic, with a recipe that won't subside."