Her fantasy, admirably, is to be a combat medic
Dressing wounds in a dress
It fits so fantastically on a femme so empathetic
Syringe wetted with astringents, to end the pain so fetid
Cool and calculated like a computer with steel
Blue as a violet the hue of my iris
Tied to the electroencephalogram
Extremities spanned across memories, calm as diazepam
Magnetic resonance imaging
Displays waves of dissonance limiting
Gray parietal vitals shimmering
All of my love for my nurse emitting
So viral antibiotics can’t stop the hypermitotic riled static of myelin
Miles engrained into my brain
In time, denial replaced by pain
My heart rate rose as ruby tulips
To lips sparked fate like a match to looseleaf
Woozy, with clarity comes patience
My heroin moves me from my nascent awakeness to a patient adjacent
Blood racin’ at this particularly wasted occasion
Prickly, hair raisin on the base of my spine
The particular kind roused by her embracing
Sick in the mind, bicuspids grind
When I’m without her face
In a somnambulist haze
Affluent praise, “Ma’am you’ve been grazed by the had of the divine”
The IV mainlines my lifeline
The same time it rights mind
Ivy veins, vines by night climb
When it rains, winds a tight line
I be vain, I’m high on her
I’m entranced by even a glancing blow of her romancing
Chancing this cancer dancing through is worth the headache of the operation
My bed quakes with red tape fear of isolation
She has no peer in my concentration
Pure, in my observation
As far as I’ve gone I’m waiting for the medicine she has in store
Reticent more and more, I engorge
On the lore of the wounded healer
I a centaur horse poor and destitute
I’d give the moon to feel her
Boon whether real or fake
With patients comes clarity
My distress temporarily convalesces until she effervesces
Endorphines morphin to orphans
Can’t nurse me back from my own vivisection
I push the button, to call my heroin.
I put the arrow in for my love injection
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