a piece of broken glass
on the floor
with my
left foot
causing a small but
painful
gash.
i drip blood behind me
as i walk
to the hall closet where
the red cross
box
waits for me,
and my nurse, Jenna,
who sits
me down
and cleans the wound,
wraps it
tight.
will there be anything else,
she asks?
yes, i tell her,
dinner at eight, tonight.
No comments:
Post a Comment