Emergency Room

The urine is red instead of yellow. Memory sterilized. My breath spins ringworms on the subway glass. Dead rat on the street and spilling the brightest blood I have ever seen. A screen of small and timid roses. Baby's breath. An ostomy bag for what we can neither hold nor let go. Will you call my mom? A peripheral movement: the three-legged cat, and the tumorous growth, both moving faster than anyone could've imagined. The jade bracelet won't come off. In youth, we dream of a thousand lives; by death we speak only of one. If you call for me I'll run. Someone holding someone's earrings. Grief grows wherever silence is left untended. There is something to be said about the falling tree. Come look – you are the next generation. See lightning, wait for thunder. If only we knew under which rock it was. Her hands were cold and there were no more gloves.