She waitresses on poetry as of he's an old lover.  Serving warm hearts on a silver platter like it was never her job to please.  Don't bite the hand that feeds and never show your teeth. Thin lipped smiles counting secrets and forgotten shifts on broken fingertips.  The cafe of delight never had a women like snow white and giving is what we do best. Fine wine,  dine with us. Taste test the waters and see if you don't drown.  Bobbing for apples as if we grow on trees,  I waitress on poetry but it's about time poetry starts waiting on me