Asbestos Lungs...

never did i think in my whole
life that i finally found this little niche
where all my molds
could grow admiring its leafless
state, its tiny black spores
infecting surfaces of my books
taking my thoughts
as food needed for
its new colonies
flourishing with a dose
of humanity, this humidity
our own human body...

dead wood, scarred hearts,
asbestos lungs.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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