Epistle

When I first met you, I was overwhelmed. My blood was thin. I was dying. I've heard so many times of the lives you saved. They swore to it, even as the nurses pumped their veins with the blood of others. It wasn't the medicine, or the science, it was you.

As I sat there naked in the white linen sheets, you watched me. You smiled while I vomited black bile. You laughed while I pissed blood. You thought I was alone, but I was laughing too.

I smiled every morning after I wiped the blood from my mouth. I laughed every evening with the sleepless nurses and dying children. They prayed for me, every one of them. But it wasn't you who saved me. It was them.