Recognized by human form;
Given volume by the molding of love.
She has a name… yet she has no past
That defines her course,
Or drives her scars deep into her heart.
Instead she is able to move forward
Perfecting thought and emotion;
She is the mental leap.
No atrophy persists in her evolution,
For her every thought is the solution to all enigmas,
If only in idea.
If only in vanity she reconciles her humanity
In staggered embrace of knowledge shown.
She is in essence completion;