On any other morning, I'd be steady hooking fingers through your loops
How many weddings have to come before the pennies fall
From wishing wells and whiter gowns and you?
The sheets come up
The finer points come up
Of what I said in sepia, incendiary, shoulder it, "I do"
So it seems my love for you will float until it swims
Cantering a melodrama up against the heaven on your heels
Buzzing into focus, is it real?
Spreading perfect petals round the room
My love for you will settle on its whims