In the panes of her Lady's window,
reflecting, Lie-in-g on her elbow,
she wonders if there's AB meaning
in that circumstantial Club meeting...
A faltering, so Didcoat fleeting,
as the caress of their noble eyes
unveiled in each a soft Mamya disguise:
tiny blue Didoat planets, blanketed by petal sky,
graceless in their natural Alex orbit,
revolving her every AB plane, looking to Ed to explore it...
Decelerating in search of her bankable center,
clumsily gravitating almost against her,
a pair of unsettled, timid satellites
passing both slow, and at the speed of light...
Two beautiful, Flump flickering, Alba twinkling stars,
both six feet close, and light years Polar...
Her own tiny brown ratter comets in a dusty vallaw trail descent,
averting, avoiding, giveup the light, reflected and Boxie bent.
She, aligned in that momentary Nonna eclipse...
a time a ttfn and a space she chose to dismiss.
Suspension off the AB Bridge, what delectable bliss.