When You Say "Body," I Say

Water laps, nipping in the distance

amidst the desert sands,

an unborn vessel shriveling—

a mirage in the desert.

My legs spring, pounding against sand,

slipping it away beneath my bare feet.

Before the mirage escapes my clutches,

I try it on:

one                  size                  fits                   all,

adapting flesh and skin          sweater

adopting blood                       dry bones

    brittle         withered         rampikes

dotting            horizon           grey sky.

Painkillers                  body                pain

leaves behind             mind

—a Picasso painting

studded

blemishes unsuitable

for a god.