And everyone thought she was joking, but
I need to do something that makes
A shower mean something. I need
Dirt, the smell of the river they say
You can look at, but nothing more–
To care what lives in there, in me,
How the sausage is made and rots,
To load the slide into the microscope
Would be an abandonment in self.
I think I need to eat with my hands,
And I think I need to feed you with them,
Too.
