Untitled, original poem #40

something about
 the blood of worlds
or out inside
  the pumping veins
oh yes -
whole galaxies extend
  to figments of the mind
while circled serpent
 sucks its tail
boiling in the blood
 of burning suns
bound both by blackness
and the will to be


*

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Author: Transdimensional Poet

Poet, Transdimensional explorer, fisherman.

3 thoughts on “Untitled, original poem #40”

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