So I guess that it is most everyday
That I can't handle all the grace of you
Splendour and beauty, hopeless, in the way
In every step and dance, the way you move.
And every fall is hard and soft and more
Like emotion so mighty now gone weak
Like emotion threading nets through her core
That as it drips, so then it would not leak.
If beauty of her, there would be no doubt
That strength accompanies herself in all,
There are such things that fearless she would flout
To lessen the view of what makes her small.
As a cage she works best, herself to keep,
As a river she would flow, wide and deep.