sonnet 8.7.13.

As hes so busy we must bide apart
I see him once or twice or not whole weeks
Theyre quality times though and each one speaks
Of old romance that courtly cryptic art
We go to movies then a good pie cart
We rent a room which grossly reeks and creaks
The off white wallpaper peeled back by leaks
His eyes look shyly off they dive and dart
One day hell love me back hell field that knack
He says I score higher than his dear mother
Not a single clue of crumpet other
Than little old me indicates no lack
His inhuman reticence befuddles
Curiously then he initiates cuddles
Chorus befuddles confuses exasperates