The code is
encrypted
in the concrete
that has been
stained
dried crimson.

All that was in them
leaking out and about
dripping deep
dna markers.

The secret harkens
back to
the history
that birthed you.

Each chain
like a strand in
lonely islands
drifting in an ocean
of strange history.

Each particle
plugged in
its proper place
to become
part of your face.
or another attribute
that is uniquely you.

To take away
that code
would unglue
the truth.

It would rescind
the parts that
grow and mend
allowing us
to break
and remake
again
and again.

The spiral
spins in,
around,
and under
your skin.

Atoms
to cells
tissues
to organs.

Though,
such wonders grow
grand and beautiful beings,
It is only of passing fancy.

Tomorrow
it might be
the poetry of
space that makes
my thoughts swim.