Blood welling up through the split in my thumb.
Heart, its aqueous sac ballooned,
thrusting blood through the aorta.
Earth spurting lava from its bubbling core.

Four crescent shapes driven into my palms.
The flesh of my throat moaned raw.
One leaf from a sugar maple,
a small flame on the sidewalk
crushed underfoot.

Threads lacing my eyes.
Your outline burning on the back of my eyelids.
Sun sending flares out across the horizon
as it sinks finally into the ground.

___

This poem is a part of a larger collection, one which probes the contrasts between the cosmic and trivial, the grand and commonplace, the light and dark as well as examines the joy and anguish of being in the middle of it all.

Plus, I always wanted to get the phrases "aqueous sac" and "sugar maple" in the same poem.