navigation

The body is a compass.
The head points out the stars, the feet
indicate the direction of the core.
The left hand, water; the right, fire.

The body knows which way to go in the wilderness.
Downstream.
The body follows water.

The body doesn't need to know where
north is; south-by-southwest is only the road
to the next cornfield in the stillness of summer.
The body points out better directions.
It is a master of living reckoning.

The body keeps a map in its skin
inked in scars
stretch marks
moles
bruises

the body navigates by landmark
and magnetic personalities.

The body is a bone sextant
sinew muscle nerve cartilage
measured in years, not degrees
in miles and miles of featureless water

of the fish that surface silver by the boat

and the wind ceaselessly stroking the waves.