And you, my love, were everyone
I’d ever hoped to meet:
At once both rare and over-done,
Unfinished and complete,

As prim as one left on the shelf
Yet dressed in fiery red.
And so I wondered to myself
If, one day, we would wed.

That I was not the one for you
Still hurts a little bit,
Although I think I always knew
We weren’t that great a fit.

And none shall ever tie you down,
Not least the least amusing clown.

Photo by Ramiro Pianarosa on Unsplash

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