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i'd sleep on the white tile lobby floor and pace until the time to visit starts. the bright lights are on but i'm away... how nervous a voice sounds on the phone. you agree when you check in at the desk . permission and trust in every move. i'd be beside you when they're done but i'll have to wait until i can call. the blood kept you home while i was gone. they left you a note when you woke up "don't be alarmed by wooden splints." there won't be a need for you to call. excuses for careless doctor errors. acceptance by all past patients have allowed for a cold disclaiming note. the warning is there, no need to call. |
