Is a ball of clay
That yesterday
Was me, today
Is he, and
Tomorrow, she.

Fingers steady,
Lining the ridges
Of his brow in
One palm and
Warming the toes
In the other,

Widening the nostrils:
Allowing breath,
Punctuating mouth with
Subtle string,

Adding sinew to
His shoulders,
And spright to
His knees,

Tapping lightly
On his heart;
Maroon gearing
Rewound lightly
In reverse—
Heartstrings pull
The mouth into
A sneer;

Allow lidded eyes to
Crease; fully
Soften—open up—
Begin.