The poem
I give up my eyes which are glass eggs. I give up my tongue. I give up my mouth which is the contstant dream of my tongue. I give up my throat which is the sleeve of my voice. I give up my heart which is a burning apple. I give up my lungs which are trees that have never seen the moon. I give up my smell which is that of a stone traveling through rain. I give up my hands which are ten wishes. I give up my arms which have wanted to leave me anyway. I give up my legs which are lovers only at night. I give up my buttocks which are the moons of childhood. I give up my penis which whispers encouragement to my thighs. I give up my clothes which are walls that blow in the wind and I give up the ghost that lives in them. I give up. I give up. And you will have none of it because already I am beginning again without anything.