He invades her thoughts
Like formaldehyde,
Preserving pain
(Locking it in amber),
The proverbial fly.
He swirls through her veins,
Throbs at her temples
Thick like curdled milk.
Only the Surgeon
Can cut deep enough
To bleed out this cancer,
Transfuse Life
from heaven’s veins
to her impoverished frame.
Blades flash.
Blood flows,
Staining wood and stone.
Every drop
Finds its way
Intravenously
To her heart.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
Wow that’s some powerful imagery x brilliant!
🙂 Thanks. That truly does my heart good!
wow that’s simply brilliant…
http:/sachinmanan.wordpress.com
Thank you!
OK that scene is starting to get painted too well.
Oh, oh. What does that mean? 🙂
You graphically described it so well it made me shudder. I don’t do well with blood.
Oh. Well – I will take that as a compliment! (I don’t do well with blood, either….)
It was a compliment. I like to try to say it differently on occasion.
🙂 Maybe you should say it in a rhyme… hehe
Wow Melody .. . This is such a strong poem. You had me feeling every word!
Thanks Debbie! I’m so glad!
Powerful!
I haven’t written poetry in such a very long time, but when I read it, it manages to capture something in me. So few, well-chosen words on the page, and I’m drawn in deeply. Thank you for sharing this.
Thanks so much, Jennifer!
This is wonderful, Melody. I love the hope in this poignant piece. It’s timely as we approach Easter.
Blessings ~ Wendy ❀
Transfusion season! Thanks, Wendy… We had a wicked north wind and the fresh snow made for a blizzard for a bit – spring is stubborn this year. 🙂
So well written, it made me say, yikes! bravo!!
Thanks so much, Kathleen!