How we value
the legs
and the hands
and the lips
of human design.
How we love
the tight clothes
and the items
that are cut way too
short.
How we love the guilt
of watching something
attractive go by
as our eyes
navigate the curves
and patterns of
bipedal making.
How we want to be:
Horizontal.
Tangled.
Destroyed.
Fused.
One.
How we value
steel eyes
and button noses-
a sharp face.
How we try to
stay occupied with
hobbies and keeping up
with work but oh lord,
how we always go back
to chasing phantoms and
dreams;
burning secrets and harsh desires.
How we fantasize the form
in every art humans embrace
painting,
sculpting,
language.
How we let our minds
wander in the dark
along with our hands
and our hearts.
How we love to love
something o' so beautiful.
And how those mediums
enter our being
and make sweet, daring,
and perfect love
to our aging and aching souls;
because we love to love
something o' so beautiful.
How we love
the human nature,
the spirit,
that comes from another.
The one that makes us laugh
and cry and
lie restless at night-
filling us with questions
and animalistic returns.
How we value
ourselves.