Through fipple of my heart I wish to
infiltrate your ossicles. Is exaptation
mocking at or maturation of our chime?
In wilderness of words I’ve lost you to
lanes I’ve no access to. I will engage
I, an armoured truck
flying through oceans
of reptiles the James Bond
but can he make of his vertebrae
a coat of mail?
Can he navigate a thousand miles
to Sargasso Sea