My rocky spine cries.
Season pass in drawer, unused.
Seroma drip fluid tears from ducts unknown.
My eyes are dry. Nose is clear
The bandage wet. My spine weeps.
Tears pink with clear tint. Princess pink?
Blood is near, but cells relent.
Coagulations work, congratulations hope.
Bacteria is opportunistic.
Seeking for vectors.
For clear passage.
For food and nourishment. For growth medium.
Not dancers in the night
Not paintings by Chagall or music by great artists.
Culture like Petri dishes, they live, they breed, they eat, they die. They kill.

They build toxins in excrement, they die in my blood.
My T-cells fight. To the end they fight.
My battle begins, a war on my rocky spine.
My spine weeps tears for them.
Victory unknown and predictions not made.