She smiles as if she has her whole  
Entire being in the cookie jar.

I laugh from my spine, as the wheels
In her pretty, dark-humoured head

Visibly turn within some sweet, twisted
Process. She speaks with the wit of a

Secret agent; the vocabulary of sailors
And intent of someone like Skeletor.

Her mouth is an instrument from which
Poetry as the opposite of itself sounds;

From where come words that make me
Either thrilled to talk back, or blush. The

Less you care together, the happier you'll be.
She smiles like that. I'm loving this lesson.