A Throbbing Speck

A poem, sorta.

I’m a living being. 
I move through space. 
I climb and crawl, inhale. 
And exhale.

I squint under blinding rays. 
On dim mornings, my eyelids unfurl.

I rely on elements, compounds. 
I wither in the absence of nutrients. 
I, a living organism, am easily disabled. 
My organs fatigue, my entrails break down. 
I’m atomized, ground down and smashed into fine grain.

I take pleasure. 
The creamy redolence of lilies thrum in my midst. 
The breeze pets me. 
I nap.

I wake.

I run hot water over my face. 
Water gushes from the shower head.
I’m a sophisticated animal.