A Nest for Your Beauty

So I move with you now. Your somokestacks turned on their sides become broken feathers for me to mend. Or at least to weep for. And there where other aspects that I no longer recall. Steel mills in the rust belt turn out to be a plausable nest for your beauty. But the ravages of something hideous... with claws, lobster like, but more insideous, crawls upon your light breast. Such a reflection. Each day brings some new revelation.