I Keep Waiting

I keep waiting for the mirror to tell me who I am But the mirror only pretends to know, Though it adequately reflects crows feet and lines: I've etched myself so deeply into this body, I can never fully be erased from it's features again. The skin is zipped so closely about me; A second skin, like a seal's skin: Waterproof and taut, to contain all my watery corpuscles, And to keep me from contaminating the known universe With my millions of particulate bodies. When time ends and the sun swallows this planet up again, Fragments of me will still be floating around, Although by then, might be involved in somebody else's bodily mass; Strange it is to consider, how even our bodies get recycled- Almost you could suppose that a few molecules of Hitler Might lie in state as future relics, of Mother Teresa.