Monday, June 14, 2010

The busy stellar nursery in nests protected by its thick bark.
We are filled, radon, ethylene, pump matter over matter.

If you can see my body glimmer from where you’re standing,
My internal organs may be affected but isn’t that the point.

Stick figures from the hair you left in the shower drain.
I attempt reconciliation with electrons.

Nevermind the comets, buy more hand sanitizer.
Glycine and corn syrup in everything even breastmilk

Kicking up modest solar flares, we are all just pieces of fire.
Leaf mimics crawling, chasing, bursting.

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