Shadow embryos,


would-be sons and daughters,

flirting with my focus,

aching to be courted,

waiting to be watered,

to put down some roots,

to put up some shoots,

to grow branches and fruits,

to hook in passers-by,

to look into my mind’s eye,

to milk me till I’m dry,

to drink down my poison,

so they in turn,

can go and learn,

to lure in other boys n girls,

and twirl them round,

in fractal swirls,

to ripple out and fill the world,

until I hear my words resound,

until the world is filled with me,

my watered down facsimile,

until their old normality,

is ironed out and gone.

Until I’m not the only one.


5 thoughts on “Contagion

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