This arm, I pull it around from behind me & bury my face. She smells like clean, undesigned honesty. The chemicals & chances of the Universe converge into one pristinely purposed body, while I dangle between Gods and chaos, scraping my shins on stars, far out, to swing back to her. & the walks under orange lit windows where the last of Summer sits in the trees and sings to Us. She’s my link with the rest of you, the reason I can see you and how come you can see me. If she wasn’t here to explain me with her eyes, I’d just be crazy.