Choose an ink the color of breathing.
This is the far end of birth.
Leave room in between
for the story. Writing
is like breathing. Put your
right hand on the belly.
You can chart the geography.
Rise and fall, O human.
Find your own history.
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john mann poems 
In the penultimate line you address humans collectively. In the final line you qualify it with “own” and I don’t think it’s necessary to do so. Leaving it out would make the line more emphatic, but, moreso, what history would be other than our own? So, it’s implied. I like this one.