There are so many fragments
Combined and balanced into a single thing
These thousands of thoughts, bits of your light
I remember your hand
Or maybe it was your drawing of a hand

The delicate holding of a pen, like da Vinci’s parchment
His usable technical precision, precession of a mind
Evolved from the Sea, assembling curious small mechanisms
Quickening, in logical arrangement, sentient of oneness, likenesses

Despite sinfulness suffusing recognition of selfishness, differences,
You won’t be outdone, you will outshine the entire colony
You are the Hand in the spiraling exquisiteness of a suspended Nautilus.