Circulatory (a poem)


With a pen I trace the system
as if the tip were a corpuscle
and I am guiding it home
from capillaries in the fingertip
through hand and wrist
flowing up the dark funnels
of the arm just below the skin
along with millions of your comrades
holding your blue breath
all the way to the heart
the seat of the soul
then lungward for a sip of air
that makes you blush red
as you begin your dive
into the body once more
and I raise my pen
as you are now lost to me
and I will probably never
see you again
bringer of life to my cells
I close the book shut
on our journey together
though you already
taught me so much.