I am no polished, smooth-skinned, arms extend-
ed beauty. I have no sleek-and-shine, just
too much extra time.
I am no floating candle, light in the window in
the deepest of the deep dark night, hidden by
fabric folds and
I am no different than any other clam, happy though,
I have made no pearl, I have ground no sand.
I am no morning song, sung by bell birds in the
chorus at dawn, no breath of fresh air, I have the same
ideas as you do about most things.