Candy in a bag –
recollections of a need
when my mind was an unswept room,
my body a husk, full of holes so thick
I thought that I would leak.
Needles in my bedside drawer
ampoules of morphine
ready to be snapped off
at the yellow line –
that crisp and thrilling pop.
No greater satisfaction;
nothing that can be surpassed.
Then the plunge of a needle
into flesh, digging down into muscle.
The other night, my body stockpiled opiates.
Nurses artfully depressed a syringe of Narcan
to bail me out of a deep unbreathing.
Two breaths a minute – my lazy lungs.
Nurses in a U shape around my bed –
‘you’re having some trouble breathing, love.’
Hell, I was between worlds dreaming
about tangerines and the biting aroma
of vodka, parcels and angels milk.