A Question of Anatomy

What are we made of, really?

I am made of blood

And my blood-

My blood is a motley crew of molecules who together

Run red

Like rubies on the diadem of a queen.

My blood is made of cells,

The cells of atoms,

And the atoms, the elements:

Letters.

And if letters make up words

And if letters make up my blood

Am I not, then,

By transitive property,

Made of words?

Do I not have epics, classics

Coursing through my veins

Keeping me alive? 

I think I do.

I think I was born from the soft words

Spoken between a man and a woman

A thousand years ago.

I think they spoke of love

And forgiveness

And kindness and compassion.

I believe the strength of their words

Gave life to me-

I will forever have them

Etched 

Into 

My insides.

I am a child of the words,

And I will die only when

The words are spoken.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the use of blood to strengthen the purpose of the poem. Words do hold power and can spark emotion of sorrow, love and happiness. I started writing when I was seven. The pen was my friend. Still is. I like the ending a lot. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry. The strong description allowed the reader to fall into the amazing poem.
Coyote

[Oceana]

Thank you very much, your words are always so kind!