Thursday, February 25, 2010


The needle
Slides in like butter

The thick brown liquid
Waits as
I poke around for
A vein

There it is
I see red
My blood
Flows back into
The syringe
Mixing with the brown

The red blood
Like a poppy
As it
Ebbs and flows

The spark of red
And I know
I am coming home.

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