He says he wishes he could live two lives, that,
After this shell cracks and his soul leaks out,
He could have another body, try it all over again.
I say, we all live forever, that we,
With limited breath set the stage for eternal life:
Each outward expiration sticks to someone else, like pollen,
So that we are carried, fertilized and grown,
Even over fearfully built brick walls;
Even in countries where we’ve never been;
Even after our bodies give out and fade to dirt;
We grow quietly, forever, on the gardened backs of others.