Counting Mischief

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You were tasked with counting request forms, 
The stack grew tall, the norm of norms, 
And there I stood, right by your side, 
A spark of mischief I couldn’t hide.

"Five, six, seven, eight, nine," you'd say, 
"Five, six, seven, nine, ten"—a playful sway, 
You’d glance at me, with furrowed brow, 
Annoyed, yet curious, wondering how.

I’d giggle soft, like a child at play, 
Grinning wide, in my own silly way, 
Your patience thin, but I felt the joy, 
Of teasing you like a mischievous ploy.

Each look of yours, annoyed and stern, 
Made my heart twist, made my cheeks burn, 
For in those moments, so small and sweet, 
You looked more handsome,

You bring out the child in me, it’s true, 
In every laugh, in each thing we do, 
And though you frown, I love it more, 
This playful bond, we’ll explore.

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 16 ⏰

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