How Darwin studied
Finches in the Galapagos Islands,
How the finches are a life 
Lesson, in adaptation,
Their plastic beaks, just like
Lips that drift like a ferry
Across a medium of air or perhaps ether,
The many, you have kissed
Without hesitation, in a moment
Deprived of caution.

How lips still undergo adaptation,
To find a niche, in her mouth,
How your soul is a cubby hole
That fills another, that
Needs some adaptation, the perfect
Fit of claustrophilia, while
Two lips, will fasten together;
How her conjectural lips, become
XX=XY, a beautiful formula,
An equilibrium. Proof that we, like finches,
Adapt our beaks, to settle
On another, our feeding rituals
Occupying a niche; a transient habitat.

How we go on our own Beagles,
Knowing how arcane is love,
Like the strange Galapagos islands,
How lifeforms evolve,
Into their own phenotypes, in their
Own chosen ways, in their own plasticities,
In their own time and space.
Isn’t that too, just like a finch’s beak,
The origin of a species of love,
By natural selection.