His Time; Can't It Be Mine

'I have a question. What's your sign?' He reads and reads those horoscopes, a waste of time. But I suppose it's his, not mine. And what a rich one I would be, if I had a dime for every time he asked of me, 'Your favorite poet?', cause you see I can barely rhyme. But he won't leave me by myself, unless he knows I'm fine. So, I'd spend every dime I have if that would keep him mine. So he likes horoscopes and literature, is that such a crime?