Our love is like a Baskin Robbins store,
These years with you, with flavors, each their own.
The carton's deep, Lord willing, there is more;
My taste for thy confections, sweet has grown.
Rum Raisin, sour, wrinkled, in a rut,
A scoop of Rocky Road, or maybe three.
Pistachio and almonds when life's nuts
And lemon, bitter, thankfully set free.
Sometimes vanilla might...
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