IV wires commune with veins, keep you stable,
change all plans.
The nurse takes blood while I pace.
The color fades from your face, makes me imagine
she’s taking it all.
A picture hangs in the hall.
People stroll the McNeely Conservatory,
frozen in time, absorbing the lush of the green,
the calm water that centers the room and each being.
When we were brand new, we walked those paths,
palmed the heads of hydrangeas and mums,
smelled vanilla bean for the first time.
A second kiss, as sweet as the first,
and the whole room bloomed for us.
The monitor beeps and reality jumps
inside my skin, my thoughts.
I slip back inside the curtain,
knowing the red is not of mums.