tiny sharp vessel

Subtle
like a ghost of a smile
as the needle slips out
from the vein
- somehow, still

shivery cold.

You're not sure

what the test or
the medicine's for,
or which it is anymore,

truth told.

You are on your way

Somewhere there's a sting,

somewhere there's an ache

somewhere there's a wait

for a sudden chill
that always comes
through

- when you least
expect, until it stops
as you know it will, for

so much of
you.

And the rest
will be taken away for a spell,
somewhere quiet to rest,
someplace safe

to be ill.