In a womb of time, we grow,
and heal,
where blood filled vessels
provide foresight into what's,
destined for us.

I began to feed both hearts,
(the red of the body) and the,
(white of the soul),
like disconnected twins,
in the depths of faith,
hoping to find light at the,
end of the dopamine surge.

An angel who holds a glaring lantern
For me, in the tunnel, before I see the light at the end.
She's my mother;
  Nature couldn't replace her aura.

The type of red that runs,
through your mind,
defines your
inheritance.