Warmth of long ago…

I curl inside the cacooning womb

of long ago, where I can hear

the heart beat throbbing, of bloods pulsing

strain, in veins I know so near –

I lie comforted in red warm pockets

that gently rock unformed desires

in caressing fluids of embryonic care,

where I can feel waters’ protected room –


I rest, wrapped in nerve-fibered vessels

snugly holding dreams of unborn waters

where I can release streams of merciless

plasmatic-torn stained thoughts –


I stay enclosed in soft-corded shoots that flow,

where I am connected to warm fluid

with a rhythm that rinsed fears,

and embalm tissue-drained years,

in what I knew so long ago –

Living Intentionally

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