It is the shape that we assume first
When we touch and the passionate flesh
Demands our control in discontent thirst
For a knowledge most sudden and fresh.

And yet though our mind, untied by sense,
Is freed from all matters denied,
It hungers no less for intelligence
And is therefore no better a guide.

But why then does the soul, sightless and dumb,
Act as center of human decision?
To the torches of taste, 'tis dazzled and numb,
And our thoughts, bereft of all vision.

How strong a support could such shallowness win?
As strong beneath bones as bones framing skin.

-2/28/2001