what i know of man bodies of my own

body could fit in a small bone bowl

what i know is salt: blood sweat tears semen this pillar

is all i am at times at all times i am

waiting on rain to come wear down wash away

the lot of me  

my body is told to me to be

a hard stance of legs wide as shoulders arms

over chest & broad back & flexed hips only never the soft

mystery crying out folding unfolding in secret

never the soft prostrate position

of the dead the prone position of a laid-out body

drenched in its own exertion and breath slowly slowing

alive among many other bodies who know

little of themselves less of any other body

but salt

on the skin collecting in the corner of the eye

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