Awkward as an angel who bears the burden of black beauty she turns, unaware of the emptiness that swirls around her lost legs Legs on which balance the twin curses of comfort and congeniality She is a solitary saint in a universe of undistinguished souls She is shy and unsure of her shine and I can see nothing else My drastic and distracted dreams kept us forever at wing’s length So that it is only when I can’t sleep, when all I can do is lie and listen to her breathe, that the beating of my heart makes any sense
