IRONING IS A SOLITARY ACTIVITY

What is that? This you in me,
the tremble beating in
the bundled bones of my head.
Clear through. Call for a review of what is:

my, my. Surprising! You don’t take a bath for fear,
not that you will sink into the water but that water
will push into you, through the already soft tissue
of your liver, dilute you.

You don’t admit your prayer, before immersion,
don’t even know that it exists:
Please, someone, God or someone,
let my atoms slow down, stop fighting for so much free
space. My body is cold. When I take in air,
let it organize me again. I don’t want to gleam,
just harden me
inside, stretch me tight.
Don’t let anything, any tiny thing
slip out.