Winter Sonata Binary's
'Tis a parable of inseparable binary's
whose snowprints melted in silent tales.
Their bodies heat 'neath winter coats
that hides their Sunday's best white finaries.
Her pleasant hands sheathed in crispy ivory
that dainty fingers concealed last year's gems.
The storefront doors with hung bells rang
in clamorous syncing with church bell towers.
The towns are all as flustered as a binary glow as one
from handhelds on sidewalks to well-measured hugs uphill.
Never apart, never alone, constants they'll be, being binaries
like the system's phenomenal binary as one, the Earth, the Moon, and the ruling Sun.
"It's getting late my dear, enjoyed our walk, I know I did, and you my dear,"
"I have my love, as I have each and every year my love, okay my love, let's start back home."
"Alrighty then, we need to do the huggy thing as we're going downhill, my dear, now be careful, no need to rush, my dear."
"Alright, my love." When we get home, my dear, I'll start up the fire in the fireplace, my dear." "I think you already did my love?" "Oh my, I love you my dear, always." "And I never stopped loving you my love."
"Oh, we almost forgot, Merry Christmas my dear." "Merry Christmas to you too my love."
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