I used to be ashamed Of my body that would come Everywhere with me, wrapping Me inside its clothed flesh. I used to find it so gross With its bones and its blood That often I would curse it Over land and over sea. I dreamed of drowning it In the depths of the river, And now here I find myself Kneeling without any knees On the ground where its laid out, Knowing nothings left to me Of it but its memories That, anxiously, come and go, From the absence of my head To the absence of my feet Like a sorrowful tide That would flow into the sea. I am a bird in the air Not knowing where to perch, My only trees been felled Even the ground is vanishing, Agh! what kind of land is this Where no one ever answers Where no one knows how to listen To a persuasive voice.