It blooms from within, from
Some central place in ourselves

- The heart perhaps - and spreads itself:
A gradually embracing fever

Advancing single-mindedly like
A truth hemorrhaging

From a statistical impossibility
(Or, a conqueror's map

Inking conquered territories with blood)
But, with the speed of an ambush

(And the comprehensiveness of
Puppet-strings)

Into the sinewy network of
Soul, bone and flesh.