The Nest [POEM]

With twists and turns she builds the nest;
it’s perched above her ear,
and coiled so tight, a snake at rest,
explode barrettes in fear.

Its genesis we can surmise:
a sultry Texas day;
With hair so dense, she thought it wise
to tuck it up, away.

Cascading down, it now enjoys
its well-deserved release,
Enveloping me slyly —
is this a tent of peace?

No. When the nest does come undone,
the trouble just begins.

I see Eve’s eyes beneath that hair,
and join her in her sins.

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