Electric, the flow
of the plasma
through my veins,
the motion of ions,
electrons and protons;
neutrons neutered
in fractions of time
tabulated, transformed.
Toll of turn
over muscle,
nerve and neurons,
under my tissue;
release of energy
into the metronome
movement recorded
inside my wristwatch.
This little symphony
ticking ‘automatic,’
I am my heart
beating, pulsating;
plasma flow.
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I too,
am like you.
Flesh, blood,
stream of consciousness
flowing like water,
transpired
through thousands
of bodily membranes.
Salt its taste,
tang of iron
fusible
second away
from an hour past.
Give way
to the old saw
of coming to dust
when the watch
I got from my wife
records life.
In an instant
melody of love.
© Sprague Thomson 2021
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