(no subject)

[forestwhisperer]

I think about the lead shot in your body
every day,
spray of a hundred dull ingots
nestled into muscle and organs.
Veins and tendons
whistle past
these pewter nebula;
leachates traveling
their secret paths
like tramps awake on trains
bound for unknown destinations.
Leaden constellations
rise on the horizon
of your glistening viscera.
To what corners of your body
do these metallic stars go singing?