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Little Bird Mar 2016
I am a tin can.
The most average tin can
Your eyes did ever see.
But leave me in the sun
and, baby, I'll glow
You better believe
I'll be 1E10K
Burning

Some more about me,
Because honey,
You should know:
I'm curvy
Easily grippable
Touchable
Gropeable
The perfect size
For your hands
To wander in so tight
To find..
I'm not tin,
I'm soup.
And baby,
I spill easily
If you hold me upsidedown
Like that.
I dent easily
When you press me
Like that.
And baby,
I grow cold
When you forget
I'm soup
And I need a heat source
To taste right.

No one likes cold soup.

But when I'm hot
I'm sure if I asked
You would eat me all day.

Mmm baby,
Its so bittersweet
That a can could love the sun.
Your dawn
Captivated me
Intrigued me
As much more welcoming
Than the microwave.
And honey,
When you lay your head
Just above the horizon,
Illuminating every white flower
With your breathtaking red-orange haze
You are the most beautiful thing
I've ever seen
And I am the luckiest can
In the whole **** world
And I try to pinch myself
But I don't have arms.
I wish I did.
Because the way
You, so quickly,
Drop below the horizon
Vanish from my sight
Leave me warm for a moment
Until the cold seeps in
Makes me wonder
If maybe I'd be better off
With the stability of
A microwave.

— The End —