Exponentially more
and more,
certain cells of ours have
one track minds.
If only you and I
could synchronize
our efforts like that.
Who could deny
the passion synthesized—
the heat and the sparks,
the gravity and attention
generated by
blind automaticity—
the power
exerted by
even the smallest secret alliances,
however inconsequential,
however innocent,
however soft
and wet the Judas kiss—
when multiplied
by the number
of our constituency who are innocent
and divided by a lifetime.
