How can I ever learn
if I’ve never known a thing;
carry a tune
without breath to sing?

How can I re-brick
what was never lain;
know this emptiness
without a name?

What more am I than plant food
walking seeds, feet the wind
senses for suffering,
growth, love and sins.

My cotton heart
holds no heat;
brain and fingertips:
fat and meat.

What path to take
when there’s a chance
that I’ll stray to earth, buried
without a last first dance.

Make a grammar in my mind
to hold what I see fair:
love, hope, smiles, touch,
red, blond, brown hair.

Whose hair is mine?
Where did I get my eyes;
tongues, shields, gold and fire-
which banners rippled in their skies?

How long to live!
A rare, fragile find.
All I know so far...
Each birthday is a scar.