Begin by peeing. Now
remove your outer shirt.
Spit out your gum.
Take off your bra.
Your underwear.
Pee again.
No barrette in your hair;
No shopping list
in your pocket.
Trim your cuticles.
Blow your nose.
Remove the band aid
from your paper cut.
Regret the weight of any
    unshaven part of your skin.
Lament your
newly applied nail polish.
Pee one more time.
Scrape the plaque off your teeth.
Pop that pimple.
Remove contacts, if you wear them.
Put your earrings and your wedding band
in a small box, intended for this purpose.
Tuck the small box into
the side pouch of your purse.
Contemplate the heft of breath.
Conceive of less-ness.
Imagine: the total absence of dimensional form.
The holes of donuts.
Oh, baby. Don't think about donuts.
Let thoughts of lightness and light things
Emanate from your now diaphanous, lithe body.