What is not him takes the place of a bullet; the metallic nature of lead, the same compact texture.

Like a bullet
berried in the body,
making the sides
of a dead man thicker;

like a bullet
of an even heavier lead
in a man's muscle,
making him weigh more
on one side;

like a bullet that may have
contained some live mechanism,
a bullet that may have had
an active heart---

like that of a clock
submerge in a body
or a clock that's alive
and rebellious,

a clock that might have
a knife's edge
and all the arrogance
of a blue blade;

like a knife
with no pocket or sheath,
changing itself to a part
of your anatomy;

like an intimate knife
or a knife for internal use,
living in a body
like the skeleton itself

of a man who might have had it,
and always, 
unfortunately,
of a man who might hurt himself
with his own bones...