history lives its life…

history lives its life out throughout my frame, the war of the roses in my kneecap, discovery of radium in my eyelid, my body and the blood in it is a map of all that ever happened anywhere, all those voices stating all their platitudes, all that death, all the rivers of long gone blood flows in my veins, as it does in yours, when the latest world wants to tell you about attitudes remind them you’re a product and include it all, as do they