I blame the body
not for existing
but for not being able to block the ways it remembers
what was it this book that said that the body is an elephant?
everything prescribed, ascribed there
just there..
the moments of sadness and joy and fear all put on the map of the body
and a tiny prick can make everything burst out again
revived for a moment in the sadness of silence

tonight I drink for the body
I blame the body
I worship the memory that remains unspoken, unfound, uncompromised
and yet to be remembered...