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I don’t think love will be neat and clean-edged, a bingo game,

crying out to Wheel of Fortune that you’ve solved the puzzle,

no neat Monopoly pass go and collect 200.

 

I think it will be sweet, not quite so cruel as nature-

But a force too sttrong to understand, nonetheless.

 

I don’t think he will always make me happy

but he will mostly try.

I don’t think I will always be his dream come true,

but I will support him.

 

I don’t think we will have everythign in common

But he’ll be my best friend anyway.

 

Maybe I won’t tell him all my secrets-

but he’ll guess them, and forget them,

And love me in all my splendour, not blindly.

 

Maybe i won’t know rom teh first time I hold his hand

That he’s meant to me mine,

or that we will always be happy.

 

But I think I will always want him laying next to me,

And that migh tbe all I need to know.

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