It was curious

 

            The professor laid down laws

            For sketching figures

            And he often closed his hand

            Upon my own to demonstrate

 

            I couldn’t help but notice

            That beneath his curly hair

            An eartip had been clipped

 

            It made his errant eye

            More tolerable

 

            As he urged my fingers

            On a line he chose

            I focused closely on

            The serried contour of the pinna

            And ignored his breath

 

            Glancing at my mangled work

            I smiled

 

            He smiled, just as broadly, in return

 

            It wasn’t long before

            I put my theory to the test

 

            And used my teeth