Corporeal
This flesh is
as we conceive
each sparkling pin
of sunlight filling
our cupped palms'
gift of the red
hand-pump's cool
water spilled here
in sleepy summer's park
before our very eyes
our lips, and tasting it
we know at last, need
and the wet bones of our
bare feet, the promise
kept for us while still
above the soil: this
carnal irony of consciousness,
ephemeral and costing
only each of our precious
lives: this beloved
flash, this flesh
of instance:
our mortal mind
of eternal soul
so corporeal.
poem by Matt Mullins
Added by Poetry Lover
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