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Clots
Clots Sometimes we wish we'll become immortal But our blood clots in ways we will never understand And flows through bones and marrow Until we find what we're looking for Or we find what we need Either way The clots find the bones eventually And everything snaps Your skeleton will expand to the size of your God …Or maybe it just feels that way Doctors will flock and witches will frolic in your shade, sidestepping the sunlight exposed throughout your rib cage For that is where you place someone's Sun when you eclipse it And your worshipers will collect what's left of your bones And sell them in the market next season for a bag of rose petals and copper coins
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