Intero-ception

Sometimes I like to play a game,

To contemplate my own insides:

My skeleton, a bony frame

As organs grind, diversified.

Under the largest, tracts of skin,

Unbid sensations rise and fall,

Miles of intestines lie within,

Passing the nutrients to all

The freeways of my veins, pursued:

The red, the white and plasma, flush

All through my lungs, a breath, renewed

Onward, throughout my body rush;

  The beating of my tireless heart,

Where every moment has its start.

8/2/20