I know of a neighbor next door,
She’s stuck up in the winters,
With a cabin in her igloo,
That crunches cracks, that,  
When she peepn’ through,
The world stops to look,
Her silence falls like the bullets,
I checked her timeline,
And her closet's in pink,
Like her hair, like her skin,
she loves what she's got, but,
in fear of what the world will see,
When I near to say hello,
She clenches on her fist,
galloping her soronity, like the,
secret word engraved in her palm,
when my kids ‘re in her lawn, she,
smiles, then shutters in precision, so,
harsh, that the igloo thaws to his freeing,
a man, whose not set eyes on his born little,
he only but presumes a beauty, one so quiet,
like the crutches he's clutching, on his left,
on his right, interlocked palms,
Further end, the palm that unfolds,
'atrapado en el amor'
The cabin door bolts.