Daily poetry from Brianna Dawn.


with age, my heart turned to stone
my cardiovascular system barely able
to keep blood boiling warm in my bones
doctor, the craftsman, laid me out on the table
drugs and drowsiness, reality starts to blur,
he traced petroglyphs along the
vessels and valves of the heart
he chiseled away, the exposure
reveals the chambers, where blood used to flow
but now empty, with scars, like the caves of Lascaux

inspired by Shaft of the Dead Man petroglyph art in the caves of Lascaux.
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: exposure

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