Day 425

Body that has been washed, clothed, nursed, 
fed with a spoon, wrapped in a blanket, a towel,
a cloth, a shawl.  Body that has been touched, held,
stroked, caressed.  Body that has bled.  Body
that has been bandaged, soothed, salved.  Body
that has known heat, cold, sweat, sea water, ice,
wind, rain.  The feel of grass.  The feel of soil.
Body that has been wracked with pain,
been beaten, kicked, thrown.  Body that has
fallen.  Body that has knelt.  Body that
has bent, crouched, hidden, closed.  Body 
that has opened in love.  Body that has shaken 
with fear.  Body that has tasted sweetness, bitterness,
salt of tears.  Body that has rocked with laughter.
Body that has broken, split apart with longing,
body that has hungered, thirsted.
Body that has been measured, has grown, has
run, climbed, danced. Body that has been tended
in fever.  Body that has lain down
at the end of day.  Body that is torn,
shattered, carried away in bags, vaporized by bombs.
Body that hasn’t been found, that leaves
no trace, that is one with the dust,
that won’t be buried, that can’t be named.