biochicklet

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Sweet Dreams

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Grief can take me to bed,

awaiting the completion of the process

that changes my thinking from muddled

to pluripotent once again.

Outside my mattress cocoon is the rest of life.

Whatever that will entail.

Inside are the very slowly growing cells that

will completely replace my liver in three weeks.

I don’t count on anything anymore.

You couldn’t brain wash me now.

That portal has shut and I say my

agnostic prayers to become different.

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Author: biochicklet

Scientist raised by intellectuals on poetry, theater, art, history and music in New York City. Escaped to New Mexico to nature and mysticism. Knowing that the absurdities in this life are what we must laugh at.

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