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   I know you can see through my body, its soft little bones its heart-shrill rhythm I forget how astral everything is,   that my suffering is equivocal to my orchard, the number of orange fruits that exist   I love the way your beak is pierced with a thousand holes like a flute Each opening has a different sound, each sound is a secret   Phoenix, I tried to rip the skin off a snake instead of letting it moult I tried to block sunlight with my body save a fly from a swimming pool   I’ve tried to live my life in one breath Tried rebirth, reared myself to live quietly beside a shoal of wild demons   I trust I am a butterfly dreaming as a woman, the fact there are realized beings   Don’t tell Oaba, Baba joon about my drinking rainwater through dirt   About my opening the door to death like a boathouse That I am only water mixed with dust That we are just something rather than nothing That the world might persuade you of otherwise