My body replaces only
dust in flight
a wearing thin page.
theirs are iron shovels
every limb
replacing a limb of resisting earth
ungiving root
pouring their dark eyes
hand over hand
into the hollow.
my paper body
sometimes rolled, sometimes bound
hides on every balcony
too far above for the earth's
new made eyes to notice
to wonder how different we are.
mar 31, 11
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