DNA

Cir­cle the wagons,

My helix is undo­ing itself. I am raveling,

un–

rav­el­ing.

I feel thin­ner, down to one strand, unwinding.

My code is is exposed, vul­ner­a­ble, out there.

The zip­per of me is down, you see.

I am mar­shal­ing my forces, call­ing for rein­force­ments, like I said,

cir­cling the wagons.

But the rid­ers never come. No attack. Just me and my wag­ons, vigilant,

look­ing out over a wind swept plain and not a threat in sight.