“Our hands were firmly cemented 

    By a fast balm, which thence did spring; 
Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread 
    Our eyes upon one double string.”

-John Donne

if she could be a quieter bird

one with a softer song

if her features were more delicate

that chirp didn’t sound like a honk

well that demure bird

would likely wish it were

a tangerine, lemon, and lime

colored tropical toucan

who moonlighted as a bar singer

at the tonga room