Gotcha. I like "you-day" better anyway. It's like Rex Manning Day, but better. Even more song and dance.

[She considers the haiku.] I'll take your haiku and raise you a few more lines.

[Eponine thinks back for a moment, before settling:] Theres pavement in my veins,
Your heart beating like the morning trains,
It's a taxi cab romance,
can't last more than one dance,
But I'll always look at the GWB
perched on my fire escape,
Cigarette signals, blending with the landscape
And remember how you felt to me.

How was that? [Terrible, and she knows it. But it got her an a last year in poetry.]