intimation

A conversation partitions a table.
A girl stares into her brew.
A mother frets about her daughter
drinking and not wearing
makeup.

I know how babies are made
and unmade.

Sign language is beautiful and invincible.
Every word moves hands and fingers
and sometimes eyebrows and lips, too.

Reason is cultivated like flowers
in a window box.

I know that you
sing to these flowers.

At a crosswalk
a look into the eyes of a man
at the wheel of a steel and glass machine
stops him from running you down.

Once in a while in the morning
you water them.

The action that makes a husband
and wife one can also unite
a master and his slave girl.

All men are created equal.

Movement does not disturb the universe —
it constitutes it
like wind over water
seen through the eyes of fish.

Do more than breathe life into a poem.
One whirling person can keep the world upright.

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