Impermanence

 

We are born with impermanence implanted
into the spine between neck and coccyx

There is a daily procession of habits seeded
into our backs
the daily dedications to ourselves planted
beneath our skin like underground plantations

        The procession of ritual,
        inspection of flesh against a mirror
        the discovery of another day
        imprinted on the body born to age

The daily procession of experience between chasms
of wrinkles sprouting from laughter lines like
chords waiting to be formed, followed back
to the day of birth
discovered
navigated

There is a daily procession of habit
the scrubbing and scaling of skin shed daily
with the snake in the yard

The fallen hair from the scalp
the shaven pubis
the collection of cells left behind, the
evidence of animal existence

There is a daily procession of habit implanted
into the spine between neck and black soil
pointing downwards towards black earth,
ultimate evanescence

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