Shouldn't I Set My Timer?

Shouldn't I Set My Timer?

You were kneeling like an idiot
Punishing himself that day.
With twitched face, your eyes reflect
The sour possibility of rejection
Still doubtful despite
the countless assurances
in winning.
I was just a child
Playing 'kill the zombies'
knowing nothing about
Your playing 'plan to woo'

Then you raised that small thing
Uh, it was red, the box,
your favorite color not mine
As if saying, "Be with me", "Love what's me" "Accept me"
Then you said it, uh whisphered it maybe?
The promise of ...
... marriage.
For only 'us' to hear and take part in.

I said 'Yes' of course?
What else there is to say?
It's always 'yes' when it comes to you.
But the ring doesn't fit on my left ring finger.
As if saying
"Hey he'll leave" which is true.
As if teasing
"Hey you'd be left here alone" which is terribly now real
You took off with an indefinite number of moons
You flown away with an indefinite count of suns
Shouldn't I Set My Timer?

Yet you simply adjusted the curtains
Left your point of view naked for me to see
That it rather fits on my right ring finger,
which ties us you say as marriage-like,
as the conjugal type.
That I shouldn't worry of ants
that may crample that trust
by crawling in your bag of sweets

That it rather fits my left middle finger, with veins flowing straight to the heart
which assures us you say as entwined,
as husband and wife
That I need not to think of snakes
that may poison our affection
by swinging in your branches

What else there is to doubt?
By simply saying you are in love with me, well...
I Shouldn't Set My Timer.