If we could see the full brunt of the universe,
If we could comprehend the endlessness of it,
Would you be willing to fight against it?
If it was crawling,
In the form of something with teeth,
Would you pick up a gun?
Or accept that it is so much bigger than you,
So much more than you,
And that you are but skin on the edge of it,
And this is an organ—
A sliding thing,
Moving without motion,
For it is already next to you,
But it can find the strength to be its own antibodies.
It can find the meaning of blood,
Thumping,
In your head.
And draw it so cleanly out of you.