Saturday, February 26, 2011

THE PHLEBOTOMIST

Take the blood and give me water, in a glass,
Shining like a diamond but more valuable
For I am sick from your salt and sweet
And turn and burn with fever
Again in my bed like a child

This room it is our laboratory
And I fight to prove my hypothesis
One gorgeous mind pitted against another
One great body fearing to feel the other

See the window in this room
See it is frosted like water in a winter
I look through for love and a garden
Knowing neither one could ever beat with life

Take the blood and give me water, in your hands,
Coddled like a child but murmuring not at all
For my words are difficult to decipher
And you and they flee too quick
For me to ever prosper

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