"Mellow on Morphine" ~Dusty

Mellow on morphine, he smiles and floats
above the stretcher over which I hover.
I snip an annular ligament
and his foot plops unnoticed into the pail,
superfluous as a placenta after labor has ended.
His day was just starting when his hootch disappeared,
along with the foot and at least one friend.
Absently I brush his face, 
inspecting, investigating, 
validating data gathered by sight and intuition,
willing physical contact to fetter soul to earth.

"You the first white woman ever touch me."

Too late my heart dodges and weaves, evades the inevitable.
Ambushed again.
Damn, I'm in love.
Bonded forever by professional intimacies,
unwitting disclosures offered and accepted,
fulfilling a covenant sealed in our chromosomes,
an encounter ephemeral as fireflies on a hot Georgia night
in a place and time too terrible to be real.
But it will shoot flaming tracers through all my dreams 
until the time my soul, too, floats unfettered.

When daylight waxes and morphine wanes,
when pain crowds his brain 
and phantasms of his footless future bleach the bones of present
our moment together will fade as a fever dream
misty, gossamer, melting from make-believe
through might-have-been
past probably-didn't
all the way into never happen, man--
as I move on to the next stretcher
and the next fleeting lover--