Creeping along through my pink soft strand
a bulb of blood follows another and
creating a factory line of singular movement
some dream-like metropolis without self or mind

they march as an army
through my capillary lands
and seep into my body
throughout microscopic glands
unlimited ammunition to keep the thrust of the inner battle going until the walls have been breached.

red cells, white light
blue eyes are closed at night
the army waits beyond my sight
to fill my dreams with a poets plight

10/01/2005

Author's Note: I don't care for this.

Posted on 10/02/2005
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