Leech
to me
bloodletting
allowance
for
this
punctured cure
From
pressure built
I
crush within
and here you stand
with solution
Anticoagulation
in
ephemeral state
waiting
for alleviation,
questioning
fate
The
arterial walls condense
and
the cells repent
away
from me
listlessly
lying
anemically
Cured,
yet still
a
clotted mess,
obscured
but
reticent
of
every
sin
until
the
pressure
builds
again
i read this several times. i find the life-giving force to come and go and pool and spill forth. you word smith very, very well.
ReplyDeleteI feel this to the very galaxies in the pulsing atoms of my deepest capillaries, Fred, Old boy.
ReplyDelete(speaking with Olde English Accent, as I've just finished watched for my first time, "The French Lieutenant's Woman." Bloody good film, that.
xo
Life spurts forth or gets clotted at time, such a chime. Really like the depth of this one as you gave it a run. So much to think about with my head already full, one of those days..haha...great piece.
ReplyDeleteuntilt eh pressure builds again...and there is the foreboding...kinda scary they used to leech people and bleed them...
DeleteI like this. I have performed venipuncture in the course of my work, I think you captured that release feel when one hits the right vein too -- nice use of it as a metaphor of letting out in this poem. The poems tells it in such a way that bloodletting feels similar like going to confessional, until it needs to be done again for some relief.
ReplyDeletei like how you work that metaphor here..there's life in blood and blood in life...and sometimes you just can't really divide the physical from the spiritual
ReplyDelete