Name-Body

Name-body—
it moves toward an unknown aim.
Like the color of a pond,
like a comet in the sky,
like the colorless drops
of the monsoon rain.
 
It is only body to body,
wandering in circles,
held by the hand of destiny.
When you walk far enough,
the name feels like armor
fastened to the flesh—
letters etched
into the bursting heart.
 
There—
the greater one becomes,
the more nameless,
like the silent tree,
like the countless waves of the sea.
In their solitude
none have ever been called by name.
 
When the flying spear
pierced the armor
and entered the heart,
the difference was revealed.
The witness—
an invisible wind,
a brief biography
carved on stone,
an epitaph above the grave.
 
Name-Body.