I wonder what goes through her head
She's like a book I've never read
The cover both enchanting and confusing me

I comment how her hair looks cute
And peel another piece of fruit
Turns out orange will rhyme with something

With pith under my finger nails
You interrupt, rebuff, regale
You said you know that I'm waiting for you

It seems the radio concurs
The DJ spins 'Venus in Furs'
As you amuse yourself to cure me

While that's less quote, more paraphrase
And now it's weeks instead of days
But you still get to stay equivocal

I'm feeling far too old to care
'Bout books and covers, pith and hair
So I'll just take it out on poetry