through automatic doors that
deflate like punctured lungs she
arrives
a heart still beating against
borrowed time—tick tick tick a
meter running down
I count compressions like
falling comets one two three four
her nail polish is chipped bubble gum pink
(someone painted those nails yesterday)
red seconds seep between
sharp splintered ribs
the pager screams three
heartbeats incoming motorcycle
scattered like autumn leaves
crushed advil dissolves on my
tongue and I taste metal and moth wings
the waiting room holds its
breath and lets go
black bleeds into blue morning light
shatters against the window and
she stays dark