If I say “my blood stirs and my muscles flex”
that’s not seemly
my blood is calm and my flesh is at peace
like vegetation lushly growing while listening to Haydn
 
Souls too have downy hair
its lucidity billows in the wind
Utopia is built on a land called the moment
where stones and insects and trees are the aborigines
 
All my cells
wish for gods
if I were to carve and polish this very moment
there would be no pedestal on which to place it