Oh. Poetry. Figures.

But still…

Poets could get a little saucy, couldn’t they? All those pent-up emotions from stewing around all by their lonesome? Hm…

Maybe this was worth Holly’s time.

"Okay, well," She rubbed her hands together. "If we’ve got nothing else to go on but ‘little’ and ‘black,’ then I’m sorry to say that we’ll be spending the rest of our lives looking for that thing. You got something-anything-more we can work with?"