So...pretend I don't care about you, you, you:
They advertise white dresses now, t'avail
Was it the thought of virgins, in a sense?
Cuz lo, "tomorrow's May! What shall you thence
Wear?--" and what of that--was't a fair detail?
I chanced to pick it out, and's perfect, frail
As every soul's half question, for intents.
His parting comment was, "A white dress...?" Whence
Eh? And I said "Ya," and wherefore (like's bail).
Cuz when I wondered "what to wear?" That fer
Ne cause seemed sheer perfection. I ne'er knew,
Save that twas light for Spring, and twas in tour.
I'm sick of Janry's darker tones. I do
Not want aught Winter shades. What spirit, poor
As that suggestion, whispered 'non white's hue?
...and write about a momentary distraction--as if you did intend to let me go so easily.