I wonder what it takes to touch her hand
And see how her heart feeds her ergonomics,
Sun-scorched vision re-calibrating and doling its own cruelty,
Wading through human realizations
Juggling animal needs.
.
Common good will is logical, not pure:
So on her way to realization of her own overture,
She will sift and specify,
Honing in and
Dancing
.
With the miser’s intensity.
In your helix is the same old thing,
And truth straddles you into desperation
As a necessary part of the day.