your eyes are full and laid bare
cuts of apple on your tray
a bed too big for you alone
the hippo game is missing pieces
swabbed down with antiseptic
clutched like a talisman
against us and other demons
everything you know is gone
the shorts and t-shirt not your own
barely hide a varied palette of
contusions from your dad’s familiar fist
the ones that can’t be seen slowest to fade
the only offerings we bring
needles, cameras, doctor coats
and a young nurse who sobs when she gets home
seeing you in the white room
as naked and as cold as a crustless piece of toast
I love the surprise of the last line of this poem. The metaphor as naked and cold as a crustless piece of toast is so fresh.
I’m curious about the age of the patient in the poem?
Anyone know? Seems like a kid?