What's hanging by those glances;
what's swinging by that smile;
what's soaring down your conscience;
or diving through your mind;
what's missing 'bout you,
what's blurring your thoughts,
what's shaking your conscious
from gazes you caught;
how vain may be
your ego blush,
the bass of questions
your wisdom crushed;
yet humbly seated
in candid view
of bearing attention
a million few;
for a shadowed context,
a floor-witted creation,
a misleading canvas
of a magnetic relation;
but what a forcefield,
what a stretching blackhole;
what a reigning gravity
all your worshippers fall;
but how careless--your grasp
yet, full spirit I'm braced,
what for dying is a touch
unless invested's my faith;
what priviledge is attention;
what luxury is your smile
shan't you be guilty for returning
after stealing once mine?
