This earth deserves a better lover
way out of Andromeda
someone who can go the distance,
not just a spontaneous morning
where the Lawrentian bird
barely stirs in the erstwhile nest.
Binary polar identities far too slow
as volunteers turning the numbers
on a drafty manual scoreboard,
for two granite faces of blind justice
inward to their own reflection
lost by menial contemplation.
With new languages take our hearts
grind the carbon beings
sing around the mortarís edge,
diamond words bring shed leaves
out of milling corners
to where dreams sometimes sparkle.