When Love is Really Real

Philly was always trying to impress me.  His real name is Philip but he's from Philadelphia and he kind of looked like a girl horse so everyone calls him Philly.  We were together about eight days when we started having problems.  Just little fights about where did you sleep last night and whose wedding ring is this in your pocket.  Stuff like that.  He'd always make it up to me in the craziest ways.  One time, he stole roses from Gracie Mansion and left them on my stoop.  This other time, he brought me a short stack of pancakes from Kellogg's Diner and left those on my stoop, too.  I was like, Philly: CUT. THIS. OUT.  We're through!  Just when I thought he got the message, he sticks a firecracker up his butt with the help of his buddy Jack Lutz.  It shot up in the air and in white sparkles, it spelled my name: T-i-n-a.  Now I'm in love all over again.  I wasn't there when they did it but he sent me the link on You Tube.  And yeah, my name is spelled E-m-i-l-y but whose fault is that?  My mother, that's who.  Me and Philly are going to work it out this time.  I can tell.