It’s this simple: the first relationship
is nothing but a series of elephant bones—
the dust and chalk that stumbles
through the mouth. The body is fragile,
indiscriminate, pining for what is lost
in a field, or has never been given.
You spend your time shedding the skin,
the old bone, in place of fresh marrow.
You become faceless and disappear
into another body, another voice,
forgetting what it was like to look out
onto the ocean.