I Lose My Hands To Use My Heart

 

I Lose My Hands To Use My Heart

 

The clot refuses to form –

 

Gushing, the protesting

platelets ignore my pleading.

 

I’m being snuggled

in a velvet blanket that

is blooming out of me.

 

As far as blankets go,

it’s pretty effective –

I’m warm.

 

The white

of the Moon above

bleeds into my entire frame.

 

I’d say I’m ready

to shake hands with the seraphs –

but my hands have crashed

into the nearby Holly.

 

Past the wine-stained pavement,

and the jigsaw

of what was my car,

the limbs lay with no master.

 

Silver lining:

Anna decides not to follow the Sower.

 

She is smiling

and I am too.

 

After all, I have

an organ donor card.