EVERYTHING THAT WAS FLESH OF YOUR FLESH, SAYS JONATHAN
 
Everything that was flesh of your flesh, says Jonathan
is about to drop off you, like a shell –
detach and come off, like a hymen, like the scab of a wound
like snakeskin.
Every inside is peeling off, says Jonathan, becoming outside
to make space for a new inside.
A boy peels off to become a youth. A caterpillar to become a cocoon.
The cocoon will be a moth.
Even I, who is moving inside you
will drop off and fall.
Like ancient skin, slowly I will wither and dry up.
But I won’t forget you. I’ll sneak in, in disguise, I’ll become a hat
in your closet, a coat
a pearl brooch
that you’ll be able to pin on your lapel.