Entropy of Hours

Our bodies are falling back to dust
in an entropy of hours. Our teeth,
even if we do not feel it, are
coming loose from our mouths, our skin is drooping.

Soon, our bones will be brittle enough to snap,
our flesh will bruise at the lightest tap,
our lungs will heave with artificial weight,
our hearts will stop at least twice a day.
It is only a matter of time.

This too, I insist on, that we are dying
from the moment we take a breath.
Small children play in their yards, on their
streets, unaware that their sinews are being unravelled.
Infants kick at their cribs, and someone should say,
“Be careful it does not bruise too soon.
Be careful it does not snap.”