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Fiona, I know everything about you,
I know you sing so beautifully that birds explode.
I know that when you sign your name,
you put a heart over the i.
I know that when you see a shooting star
you cross your fingers on both hands,
squinch up your nose, and you make a wish,
I know that you don’t like the covers
wrapped around your feet,
and I know that you sleep by candlelight
because every time you close your eyes,
you’re afraid you’re going to wake up back in that tower,
But most importantly Fiona,
I know that the reason that you turn human every day is
because you’ve never been kissed, well, by me.