Permanent

Permanent

A torrent of memory, a crop of sighs -
the human body is a bundle of lies.
Grapes grow wild,
wheat grows ground -
the human body doesn't make a sound.

Trees and birds and the ocean's tide
a heart closes up like a river runs wide
before the rain is gone and the sounds subside
but the birds chirp on
before the sun is gone.

A touch is warm, but his hands are cold
the human body is three days old.
Heat glows sound,
air blows light -
the human body is a bundle of night.