When she repeats
repeats repeats
or orders things
precisely
as
they
must
be
lined
up
here,
or suddenly
will look
away,
or occupies
herself for hours
pinching petals off of flowers,
examining each stem and leaf,
her focus fixed beyond belief,
or sways an arm turned robin wing,
nestles deep in silent scenes,
or sings abruptly with applause,
just because:

peer further than
her distant gaze.
Begin to see
the beauties there,
beyond expressions,
ruffled hair,
the words she plucks
as if from air,
within a mind
so unconfined
by convention
or your preference.

Imagine you
within her place,
your wish: to stand there
face to face
with someone "off
the spectrum," then,
without talk of
"phenomenon,"
just friendliness,
equality,
warm tolerance,
some jollity,
your whim to dance,
be still, alone,
never measured by your tone,
accepted ever, every hue,
devalued never, red to blue.