** Ada Limón:** This is Ada Limón. The Mirror and the Ribbon.

The skull is a myth, the gentle flesh,

eyes black pools in the face’s expanse.

There is a rumor. Do you know it?

Privacy of the body; its separateness.

So serious we take ourselves, our

serious limbs, our serious mouth

making clear delirious sounds, our

hair, the selfish hours of our, our, our.

Question: What if it is not divided?

The I is also the you, the monkey

is also la selva, the leaf, the old man

cactus with its thin white hair, what then

must we call ourselves? The ribbon

is not a lie. The pink cord that weaves

around both the body and the world

is pervasive and shatterproof,

the ribbon unravels beyond the frame

and its persistence, through clock time,

through illusion and emptiness, it is here

now, and it can hear you breathing.