This was not an affair,
You were there to discover:
Like a beautiful volume
With a rough dusty cover.
And in love like a scholar,
With a secret excitement
I was reading our story
With a frivolous title.
There was crying and warnings,
All the same, not a secret.
The dull prose was prevailing,
And the poems were less frequent.
Your attempts of succeeding,
And your desperate cuddles,
It’s all scary like reading
Childhood period dramas.
I was hoping, excited,
That you weren’t read by many.
But just like a new item,
You were borrowed aplenty.
I know all whatsoever,
You don’t have to believe me:
Forty nine altogether
Chose to share their small secret.
Wish I could read the wedding,
And I pray: "God Almighty!"
Let’s now flip to the ending
And be done with this writing!
I can’t wait for the moment
When I’ll go down the aisle
To return this old novel
With a frivolous title.
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