If my life's work is noticing
Be sure not to delete the soprano part
Preferred by the basso profundo
Who loved through her while sleeping soundly
After the aria when her hoop skirt
Flirts back he sorrowfully averts
Her eyes he tells himself always rise
Beyond the thick curtain of quiet once
They twin to the thin line that leads also
Away from identity, so he sings
To himself a roundabout accidental
Quaff of lemony lime spritzed on depth
Then dip each finger into the raging
Although pale hued river are you riptide
More than clubbily morphed in the direction
Of a miller competing with a light?
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