It’s not so much a rejection of my body
as a loosening of attraction and attachment,

a kind of liquidity, a softening in the marrow,
collagen loosening in the joints, more water

swilling between molecules that used to
aggregate into solid structures. My throat

vibrates but it’s not the deliberate humming
of a meditation practice. I don’t know a name

for this pervading presence. Is it my death
approaching or simple weariness? I want

to send whatever it is away, relax here in the sun
with a glass of wine, a mezza plate, myself.