Dolo felt sheepish all of a sudden. He certainly didn’t like standing up and sharing his intimate thoughts with a bunch of strangers. However he was excited to finally get some guidance (albeit a bit unconventional) that could help him become a more cultivated wordslinger. As he made his way up front he figured everyone in the room would sympathize with him since they had gone through this at one point.

Clearing his throat at the lectern, he began.

“Love visits me again in a dream,
A starling perched yon high.
A flitting feather armed with her truths could strike me sure as a blade.
But to acknowledge our yearning would be design’s cruelest lark,
For I see Love caged as she sees me free.”

The sound of the audience shifting in their seats deflated the interminable silence. The Viceroy raised his eyebrows and scanned the Collective for reactions.

“I don’t get what you’re going for, you used too many metaphors.”

“I’m confused. You love a bird?”

“Are you tryin’ to be Poe or somethin’?”