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you are not your body
i am not my heart
pieces stitched together
are not yet apart
the real you does not hunger
she does not rest nor thirst nor sweat
the Soul is always living
she'd hate for her flesh to forget
they tear down fellow man
depriving themselves of what they need
rip through the skin
and all our sentiments bleed
but at the end of the letter
of body-soul correspondence
there's a red bottom line
drawn by what is beyond us
straight as a heart monitor
since before the famous lamb
the truth remains
we all weigh 21 grams.