she woke up without bruises

godless and unchagrined,
he exhales in satisfaction
of the smooth metal’s
bevel as it perforates
an imperfect knotted
border between
ecstasy and dismay;
this is penetration in its most
visceral sense, the delicate hairs
covering her forearms
chilled and on edge;
it’s almost sensual, slipping
like poison into veins
opened for the embrace
of a cure, the sterile admixture
of stainless steel melted
by the heat of her blood.

as many such instances
it’s over almost before it’s begun,
leaving an ache of anticlimax and only
a few precious drops on the
rough cotton sheets,
soon swept away by a need
for decency
and an orderly’s ungentle hand.

2 thoughts on “she woke up without bruises

  1. quite a piece — the metal – the vein, it raises the hair on my forearms — the cure — brings the reality of life/blood to the often – cold hand of medicine.


    thanks barbara– glad it tasted real to you


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