my partner sneaks me sunshine while the doctors look away
and I pocket the little rays in my gurney while they perform sonic echoes of my heart and the lines rise and fall and rise and fall. There’s abnormalities banging around in my chest; raccoons in the wall, feverously knocking, then pausing, waiting for me to catch another breath. But my partner sings through tears, her hazel eyes a constant throughout these tumultuous times spent monopolizing my care from hospital to hospital around the Greater Boston area. If Uber rides could talk they would erupt with chimes of laughter through failed insulin pods, windmilling, blurring together like the...
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