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THREE a.m., heels riding-stirrups hard,

Girlhood dreams upended

Squealing love's fruit into Klieg

Bright lights. Man - what a trip

You've had. Gently

Pulled by Love, perhaps, but never

Feather dumb struck Leda like,

Nor wooed by sexy couplets

Whispered by some bronze

Clad dude. No

My dear, passion brought you down

To earth. Pheromones twitched

Your adolescent nerves (and his)

And sent you shuffling to his side,

Future bound by carbon chains.

What cosmic whim transmits this legacy of Adam

In wisps of aromatic carbon atoms?