Key, as if she were gold-embroidered
the perfect fit for the doors
she was carried through
but a Key that is not welcome by all

Kuh, like little children learning
the sounds of consonants,
some say, Kuh, as C is for come
make a language you were not born into yours

Tawn, deep brown skin, exotic
she is here from another land
sharing the same dawn as us
pretending to make hers look the same

Kiitan, what a pretty name
a little strange though, isn’t it?