I feel your fragility,
your flaws,
your utter
breakable
ness.
But other times...
you are bulletproof,able to fly.
I feel your power and
stand in reverence;
I see the expanse of your mind
spreading out around us all
as you enfold the subtlety of human grace
in your Spock-like logic.
You conduct a symphony of humanity,
the herd pressing around you,
hoping for a bit of wisdom to filter through
or more likely,
just drawn to your light
without any sense of why,
or of how close they are to Greatness.
I usually see in you a smooth perfection,
a wall of strength.
But in the sunlight
you are dappled with just a
hint of cruelty,
a dash of conceit,
a whisper of carnality.
Together,
this makes the palette of you
even richer.
But I'm not fooled by glasses;
Clark Kent can fly
just as high
without his cape.
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