So I said, let's give lost love a test.... even if it's the worst at best...

Curls, in unwashed hair.
She twirled them, with her front left digit,
She smiled weakly, and looked to me.
Her eyes were... were questioning me.

Curls, in unwashed hair.
She twirled them in, with her feminine digits attached to...
An appendage from her torso...
She was done up nice, more present than a package below a tree.

She asked if I loved her...
I spoke my truth,
I said, I really didn't know,
I love a you, but I don't know if she's real, not yet, you see.
Curls, in unwashed hair.
She twirled them, with her front left digit,
She smiled weakly, and looked to me.
Her eyes were... were questioning me.

Pretty curls, in unwashed hair, she twirled them with her fingertips,
She licked her lips, and relaxed her furrowed brow.
Wrinkles had spread about her beautiful visage of a face.

I love you too, she said, but I don't know if you're real, just not yet, you see.
I was glad she agreed.
Perhaps she'd fathom my soul from a venetian canoe.
Maybe she'd twirl my thoughts about, with her front left digit,
As she licked her lips, she narrowed her brow, and funnily looked upon me.

Curls, in unwashed hair.
She twirled them in, with her feminine digits attached to...
An appendage jutting out from her left, connected to her shoulder, from her torso...
She was done up nice, more present than a package below a tree.

She asked if I loved her...
But still, I spoke my truth,
As I had that time before,
And she frowned, but hid it well.

Time, will tell, it is the test,
She said this to me, and I heartily agreed,
I looked upon her, more present than a package below a Christmas tree.
We'd argued at times, love was put to the test,
But the woman I thought I loved, still stared me right in the face,
So, I said, let's give love a test, even if it's the worst at best.

And she frowned at me, quite strongly.
For she didn't know just yet,
With her, even the worst was always,
In every way, the best.

Curls, in unwashed hair, she twirled them,
And with her eyes, she braided my soul to her,
As she twirled her hair, and curled it into some other thing.

And I smiled, and I told her I love her, for I think she's real,
Her form, complied with my fantasy.
And she frowned, and with great sorrow she looked at me,
And finally, she said it to me, as though I were quite daft, you see,
'Your fantasy, complies with me, it's not that other hurtful thing, you just said.'
'And my fantasy, complies with you, too,' she kindly added as an afterthought.
And she twirled her hair, and curled it into some other thing.