On the planet I’m from, what you call spirit we see as the body,
an object as visible as a light bulb, as physical as a kiss.
On the planet I’m from, only shamans claim to know about your “body”.
They call it the form without form, a myth to the living, tangible only to the dead.
Is there nothing I can do to change your vision, you who call yourself human?
Is there no way, no surgical procedure, no hypnosis, no bent glass
that would reveal our actual presence, the kinetic physics of the aliens
who live among you, invisible inside the spirits you call bodies?
storks in corsets 