Ants

the ants travel up and down the tubes,
my veins,
careful footsteps through the platelet covered paths
from a moldy kidney,
useless filter,
to a perforated septum,
allow empty chambers to form a
collapsing organ of hysteria.
They travel there, too.
My wandering uterus is their playground.
Black clot lining sliding down as they climb
along the walls.
I birth their tiny forms
one-by-one
into the cold stagnant air.
They clamour to get inside me once more
to be warm and comforted,
although
I am cooling fast.
Nice
to be wanted once again.