There was this book I used to read,
one tinkled, non twinkled, wrinkled old book.
contained chapters of love, lust n greed,
with that worn out, dead-wood look.
There was this girl 'used to be my lover
This little, gentle, brittle country girl,
contended with little life has to offer
she was an angel minted in hell.
The book taught me how to live in dreams,
This girl showed me when right is wrong
how serpent could look so prim,
and that love is short with forgetting long.