alternate phrasing: the sight of veins under skin and the movement of muscles and tendons and bones regularly fills me with awe and the heebie-jeebies because human bodies are weird alien machines that are marvelous

and the sight of your own veins

terrifies and thrills to very core —

as though the tiny avenues

(in strain of hues

— the blues)

are the roots of ancient forests

beneath the moss-smooth shores

stretched out betwixt sharp elbows

and slight wrists

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