I gather my wares as might a mynah. A few scraps of song, some things not necessarily like sonnets but substantially poetic, perchance some art pieces, various vows, of course, and affirmations made of strong yet supple cords, spider silk possibly. I bind it all together with countless fine devotions and shape a nest around us. I coo, heedful of pride, as you percuss the air with a pleasured display of span. We preen each other of free of woes, flock together, and roost until sunrise, when I fly, as might a mynah, knowing my mate ever awaits me.