I watch as the tube turns red, my blood flowing through, barely feeling the pinching sting of the dirty surgical wound. I breathe easy – a silky calm sinking into my chest, my spirit rising and drifting through the cloying, frigid void. There is my body, spread, fading, broken but content beneath me. My love is at my side, the tube in her arm. As the red of my blood sinks through her skin, her eyes flutter open. We gaze at each other and she nods a sad smile. Soon she will be magnificent.
(c) Tim Austin 2016
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