The needle threatens,
taking me as its own personal challenge.
Cold as fire and hot as ice,
it teases my vagus nerve
to tip me over nausea's edge.
I flush and shudder
as my vision blurs.
The syncope wins;
the triumphant needle in the bin.
Great imagery!
ReplyDeleteI learned all sorts of stuff from this poem. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI love the "Cold as fire and hot as ice"
ReplyDeleteWell done!