I remove my hat, and then my head,
detach my hands before my arms,
release my legs from hips to knees,
retire my ribs, unlock my heart,
disassemble my loose constructions,
sort the knuckles from the capillaries
and place each piece carefully into boxes,
nestling them down in nests of cotton,
tucking them in as if to sleep
until next they're needed again.
Good night, my body,
sleep well, my corpus –
I store you here among gossamer cages
to keep your shine for better days.