Tuesday, April 29, 2003

Blood

wellspring,
you make me feel real.

i watch your thick maroonness
and have proof that there is substance
behind these fingers,
mysterious machines that pump away under my skin
keep me seeing, breathing, tasting, touching
exist.
skin of different colour
skin that i've been told is alive
hair that curls
of its own volition
toes that waggle if i want them to.

pain, pleasure
fleeting decay

i am not an automaton,
wellspring.
you make me real.

Mina at 9:01 AM

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