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// dialysis

TATIANA GELLEIN

lisa rubbed that damn lamp with all her might for 3 days straight

‘til her palms went numb and stained split pea soup

she knew she needed to take a break

and finally released her grip

letting a fogged hand

print evaporate alongside her exhale.

damp hands reeking of metallic ions

there should be one left, she thought.

these days,

channel 9’s glow was the only light that

ricocheted off the 4 corners of this grim purgatory

and lisa was itching for the morning she’d see her sun rise on its own again.

she held the lamp toward the ceiling fan, squinted one eye,

and peered inside its opening;

darkness

she tipped it over and shook the lamp feverishly above the bedpan:

nothing.

the only sound to be heard were those ugly orthopedic clogs clunking down the hallway.

or those stupid robotic beeps

constantly striking the icy tile floor

like a million single dimespiroutteing at the speed of her paranoia.

 

sssssssssssssss

 

a mid-slumber coo broke her trance

lisa glimpsed over her shoulder,

sighed heavily and surrendered

tucking the lamp back under her pillow,

as she tucked herself back into fetal position

up underneath her boyfriend in one gurney

facing her little sun in the other.

lisa watched the looney tunes bed gown

rise and fall ever so gently,

 

still nesting brave little embers.

as the slurpee machine continues to churn

bad red into good

good red away from bad

away would be good

she dreamt.

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