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Blood of Me

I looked at a drop of my blood under a microscope 
It was a mistake. I should have not looked;
I should never have looked so close at myself.

I was not red but gray, and I was but globs of gray
and I- the bland globs had corners, imperfections
and the imperfections had imperfections 
and I was not whole, 
these globs, of me, were held apart from each other
I could see nothing between them--
I was as tiny moons –
lost in a vast cosmos-- 
cold and empty.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007




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