It’s strange and sweet, examining the hands:
not knowing really what you’re looking for:
perhaps some magical relation to a motive
force which understands more than you can
about their cavalier dexterities – their grand
obedience to nexuses of neural networks
which command them – their graceful
nuanced dance – at once describing plump
and curving breasts in arcs throughout the air
then daring to dart quickly to the nose
to scratch (or dig for) something fleetingly
annoying there: and all the other common,
rare and unpredictable excursions that they
make on your behalf. With all the expertise
of some vast hidden royal staff, they do your
system proud. Let’s praise the things out loud.
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