Brain Scan

I nibble your sandwich
return it to the tray
try the jelly

the ward clatters
your skin has a little
more color today

your hands in a nurse's
I tie you behind
a supple grey bow

you insist on walking
the corridors draw
the pulse of our memories

we are slow
we are slow
we are slow

we reach the place
I cannot go and we
moth upon a mirror kiss

I wait with the chairs
lions in my belly
and cold sun in my chest

I dream we are enmeshed
creatures of light
danced in your head

the white coats
search for black holes, but
find our love instead

our tremor reaches
all the way out, and
down to the very last bed

© Brendan Bonsack
February 2019

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