Spoken To The Colonies

 I do it in
the night upon
bedtime, in the
quiet, my
hands lay
upon my womb, thereafter
my breasts, I know where
they lie, I can feel
they throb, they
squirm, they
pop, and there
is pain at times, so
I do it in
the night upon
bedtime, in
the heat of my
hands I speak
to them and
they listen
intently, for my
blood is
their blood, my
life is their
life

they are colonies rather large, rather complex, of bodies within the body, and each of them have a mind of their own, fired and firing across finite lines of communication, and whenever my mind is in agony they throb, they squirm they pop, desperate to stay alive, but now please, please listen, yes, listen, I have been wrong, I have been careless, I have underestimated our dependencies, but it is not too late, this body will not fall apart in the revolution, there will be no revolution, and there is time enough to contemplate each cellular complexity, to appreciate their lines, their shapes, their lives, their birth and death, because none of us will be immortal, there will be no immortal cells, we are all going to live and die.