"Myelin Sheath"

A little concerned, I am, with my belly just beneath—

A fluid-type, jelly roll myelin sheath.

But how can I dispense out of it?

This tryst I know at least—

Is a squelching, slippery cylinder,

On which I think I’ll feast.

I’ll nip away at the squirmy tendrils—

That strap down my knees and elbows.

And then I’ll rest and produce a plan,

To nibble until the casing stops its re-erasing span,

And I’ll scrape my calcium, cutting cubes against its

Gelatin skin—and then once I feel that I’m without,

I’ll no longer be within.

Until I see it spin. . .

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