The vase fell on the floor Now that vase doesn't exist any more Shattered and smattered Pieces of baked clay that once come from earth Dust it becomes and after taking birth Dust it returns to soon enough
The body is the vessel, the vase; Life the transient uncanny phase Dust we came from, albeit from the dust of the stars From Mercury, Venus, even from Mars We hold the secret and in our tombs The secret is that dust is just sleeping wombs.
