Promises

Iodine and a touch

Of cotton swabs,

Doctors nodding scented

Breath of stale patience

Waiting to be out in the

World of flowers

Roses, perfume poses

Wanting blowing cross

Our noses

Pushing these petals of

Promises is where I

Got stuck at the

Desk of insurance claim

On the holidays

Where my demands

Lead me to stand

Smelling hospitals and

The feeling of never leaving

Sends me screaming

Out of that water logged

Body, drenched in the

Tub like a little pink

Raisin, cursing stationary

Modes of transportation

The movement smells so

Much nicer than standing

In the waiting room

Demanding you a bride,

The groom feels better

When the bread is rising

So let me warm the

Oven so we may sit

And rise together

Sniffing out the daze

Glow in our hearth