hopeful Aszune,
and the streets are cobbled with your heart.
They spotted it dangling,
illuminous as the moon,
and drove their ego through it,
anonymous as a swamp
in evening June.
Their two part tongues
will one day stitch together
into an ivory cocoon,
long after your special day.
But what gets me
is that you, gentle Aszune,
never once gave up your name.
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