Stumpy lowered his chin to his chest,
and wondered once again
Where the punk
from nowheresville had learned his lines.
But things were firming up, they had a
key,
If only they could hold this whispy
window on the other side of night.
What
was it caught and held that cyborg elf?
A
tone perhaps, so unlike its own,
Which
grew from Megan's heart, but died in Prawn's cool calculus...
Forgetting for a moment how the
flipperty girl
Had a thing about hands,
Stumpy placed his gnarled paws on her arms
And gently engaged her swift gaze.
Meg don't you see, you're the link and the bond between
worlds,
For the numbers that spin in
Prawn's mind are a takeaway snack
To that
binary creep on the screen, but the truth on your lips
Is a mystery so deep that it dare not defy or
demean.