XXXVII. Thanks For The Memories
If he compared her to a summer's day, he'd be stealing from Shakespeare.
If he spoke of her face in thine eye, he'd be copying John Donne.
If he told her that her eyes were as green as a fresh pickled toad, he still wouldn't be unoriginal then.
So he won't compare her to anything, and just hope that she finds her way back without all the namby-pamby bollocks to lead the way.