I breathe in

living particles

through tubes into smaller tubes

connecting to my heart.


I create future fields in bloom

rings of color radiate

surrounding small pools

of spring rain.


I travel the passage leading

to a room of infinite exits

each one a trap

bated by experience.


I see the sky through

a bony eye frame

on a blood dusty plain

no sign of humanity.

I am writing this in a book

someone else started

spitting blood into a toilet

and flushing it onto white polished paper.


This entry was posted in Art in Nature, internal landscape, mindworks, paying attention, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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