The roll books of the stars are kept
In files atom-size,
Yet just one glimpse of you or me
Would fill up all the skies.
I am a mystery to me
As you must be to you.
How could we hope to understand
The mystery of two?
So we will feel what we must feel
And find some word to fit,
Even though we look inside
And see that isn't it
And I will think of you no matter
What I'm thinking of,
Even though I know it's much
Too soon to call it love.
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