Beneath those mousy tresses,
Her eyes subsumed
That immaculate sentiment-
The very antagonist of vice
Her hands that grew an octave expanse
Suffocated her self recognition
Upon the pixels of colored state
"Find in me your ancient existence."
This doll of diminutive Dutch
Bartered the expense of Fond Camraderie
For solitary prestige and eminence.
But past her smitten mask of comfort
Lies her fear of suffocating Quarantine