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