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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She bruised her knee. This is how we met"

She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
I gave her two daisies. This is how I met your mother.
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
I knew before I met you just how we would end
How He Didn't Understand Her Whichever
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She knows no truth except her own.
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
How's she goin', by
How Linux boy met the Mistress of the Beast with Two Backs
she had already found her party
does she need to touch her own face to know?
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
How I met my Mother in Law
some of the pain that she endures would bring a strong man to his knees
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
You can't stop thinking of her: this is how you explained it, a proof of your being in love.
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
At night, her eyes closed, she would
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
She asked me to read her a poem
She keeps her lies everywhere
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
How Stella Got Her Groove Back
How the General Met the First and Foremost
How she saw the moon
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
Most of the men were disillusioned long before they met her
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
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
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
She Will Have Her Way
If I'd have shot her when I met her, I'd be out of jail by now.
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
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
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
she lit her thumb on fire
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
how many bird nests would be made from her lovely hair
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
She always confused her greys with white.
beauty is invented, but it is also personified, and I know this because I have met her
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
she does not know how much I need this (idea) mp3 (recording)
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
Dust mop so magic she can not believe how fun it is to clean up after people
She thought about giving him her heart
she does not know how much I need this
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
Including her knees and a dragon made from a sock
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
How clear she shines
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
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.
I met Death face to face, and I mocked her!
serene. She sips her tea
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
How I invented Anna and made her a character in all my stories
Her knees
She was never mine. I always shared her.
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
How to test if your mother REALLY has eyes in the back of her head
I don't like her because she won't like me
She always was devious in her beauty
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
The portion of her face she allows me to see
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
Call her up, tell her how love is not a question.
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
How Marsha Davis got her boyfriend
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
How to be strong for her, when all you want is to depend on her
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
the way she wears her weary
Of how Signy sent the Children of her and Siggeir to Sigmund
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
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.
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
I met her today, the girl I used to be
And her knee touched mine
She practices her speech
She flies with her own wings
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
How long have you been in love with her?
How Ozma Refused to Fight for Her Kingdom
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
she gave her heart to a falling star
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
How you gonna keep her down on the farm
Chin resting on her knees
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She told me I looked like a Henry, and this is how she would know me
What if I had never met you? How much the poorer would my life have been.
TGoP: Of How Imbaun Met Zodrak
How's she cutting?
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
She says kill. I say how many.
How I Met Your Mother
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
Nobody chooses apples with bruises
Climbing into the car, donning sunglasses to hide the bruises of neglect
Bruised rib
Morning was like an ex-wife's bruises
hers
her
The Ground Beneath Her Feet
Do Her
Herr
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
There is no Goddess but Goddess and She is Your Goddess
I don't want to see her
The woman with her legs apart
right under her surface
I remember when it was me who made her toilet flush
Her name was Natalie
Funny -- she looks much smaller from outside her head
Pig on her back
To Her Door
I was sure it was her
to let her know
A Fallen Caryatid Holding Her Stone
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
A New Student and Her Father

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