VESSEL
- Mar 7
- 1 min read
By Megan Cartwright
Broken blood vessel blooms,
sprouts in tendrils that snake
across my eyeball; a white orb moon.
I drive nameless roads, consumed
by history, shed rust, flakes
of a broken blood vessel’s bloom.
Map lines spread like veins, plumes
beating blue with the heart’s pace,
rapid beneath the white orb moon
while the cigarette lighter socket looms
at the edge of my vision, aches
red; blur of blood vessels in bloom,
mind and mouth of cotton wool.
I exhale dragon’s breath, shake
off night, despite the white orb moon.
Foot to the floor, I presume
to follow fractal patterns, make
a map from blood vessel blooms
and drive, eyes wide as white orb moons.