In my mind
I am drawing scars
on my arms.
With a silver scimitar
I am carving up my back
and sinking steel
into the layers of fat.
I am tearing off
all the grease in me
and ripping off
my pasty skin,
drenching it in
mortal red
as I cleanse myself
of all my flesh.
And then the heart,
the lungs, the brain:
all these objects
I wean myself from
until I can breathe
a different air.
I am leaving myself bare
in my bloodied bones
and waiting for them
to disintegrate back
into the earth.
Until then
I'll be waiting here
for my new
immortality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! this is stunning work and such a catching name! I love it on my tongue! Wow....breathless, Tai