Tram girl

I saw a pretty thing the other day.
An exquisite being was she.
She stood there holding the tram bar.
Not looking at me.

All of a sudden she became.
Symbols scrawled on my mind.
For such things can happen.
In dreams of such kind

A density operator she was at present
The greek letter rho
And the symbols scratched about her.
Wrote how things with rho would go.

The equation she did satisfy
Was of a liouville kind.
And that this system was closed.
Was apparent to my mind.

It said that the hamiltonian between us.
Assuredly would evolve in time.
But the work between us would be alas
Of a purely professional kind.

For no warmth and heat would we exchange
Oh heat that indescribable thing!
My hidden, infinite degrees of freedom
Await her warm embrace.

For that only an open system would do.
With a dissipator that relaxes.
She wasn’t to let her guard down.
To this reservoir that askes.

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