there is nothing more real than body in me
nothing more real than hard bone and flesh and muscle and sinew
the words that slip away from unguarded tongue mean nothing
they will be back again tomorrow with contradiction at their side
what you call my heart is a false mirror which catches false light
which turns cogs and wheels in the body that blows air through the empty mind
but there is nothing to it
but cobwebs and photographs
the body never lies

cling to this body
it is more real than 'I'
this machine that ages and degrades
is all I have to stand by
this clunking beating vehicle
carries only meat and guts
what you think is soul is nothing more than blood

cling to this body
which is slowly closing down
it is the only real thing I have
which you can hold
the words and thoughts and passions switch
and vanish with the wind
but the body must be beaten down
before its heart turns cold