Can you not decide what *** you are derived?
perhaps you enjoy a good mystery.
and with that smile a fearsome pride turns up,
a girlish flip in fluorescent scales.
Or is it sadness that takes the air?
no wings to grasp the wind, no more.
My pet you are so adored.
By this fall blue feathers and sharp claws
will be in full demand.
And as a dragon decides to choose,
so it seems will you.
Kazul, my dearest blue green conure, named after the King of Dragons, who in fact was a girl, for you see, dragons choose their ***, and my sweet pet's; is and will be a constant question, for these birds are secretive in this manner.