Children of divorce

Loose your hair from its bindings,
the fabric of lost years;
those nails bitten to beginnings,
let them grow.
Smooth your brow –
now carve a pediment of grace
on the new facade of your face.
Take your gritted teeth and throw them
like flat stones to skip along.
Ask the root of your tongue
for your forgotten song.
When your cells announce their daily circus,
tell them that their show is perfect,
and when your bones would dance
with your marrow, take your chance.
Love your blood, its odd and even pulses;
love the warming of your ancient heart.
Come home
to your mind and your faithful spine;
find your organs clothed in purple.
See how nicely balanced
your brain is on its stem.
Feel your digits clasped in fists, and release them.
Train your thoughts, persistent vines
that, if left and over time,
will mask an artful brickwork.
Kiss the graceful ages of your skin;
press your lips against its fright.
Close your eyes on torn dimensions;
when you open them, do not divide the light.