you were sleeping while your blood did all the work tore your tissues, carried them away through arms and legs while you lay dreaming with your head on a red pillow case unaware of the riot in your veins I wanted to wrap you in a blanket and stroke your hair as if it would detoxify the years your body poisoned to pull the IVs carefully from your arms for some great miracle to take their pointed place. everyone in a white coat is in line to tell you the news to hand you slips of paper with words you've never heard every day your phone rings with another diagnosis a line of treatment, a regimin, a cocktail but where's the fucking cure. where are you all going, my friends, my family in rooms of surgery, they spread your bones and pull back soft tissue to expose the burning red of a heart, a pink lung, the liver in its folded burgandy you are bathed in white lights, so sterile florescent your eyes are closed, mouth full of snaking tubes a metal probe feels for some solid thing to explain why any day now, you may not meet me in the morning
~~kristin.michelle.dennis
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