Bouquet Becomes Tourniquet
My memory endures a tourniquet
as it tries to forget, while holding blood.
It used to sport a bouquet
as it tried so hard to boast.
Bouquet becomes tourniquet.
A flow is held.
A part of me is throttled, my throat is squeezed.
It wants to loosen - but strangles.
Some things will not release.
Eyes will gawp, try to pop.
Memory can cause so much pain.
That tourniquet that holds so much.
(4 May 2003)
Copyright © Andrew John | Year Posted 2023
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