this is why I write

                      so at times when my

                                                         arteries abruptly explode

   veins rip, bones splinter through my skin

                                              lungs screech silently

                                   clamped stomach heaves

   brain’s vestige slithers down the hall

                                                         and my heart

                          plops beside me on the rug


           then my blue ballpoint pen, operating anywhere —

           even on thin white paper

           in a stippled pocket memo book —

           swiftly sedates my neurons

           punctures all putrid inflammation

           eases each organ back in place

           suturing membranes securely

           to support this equilibrium

           ’til my mind and innards mend


   this blue Bic finger points my way through the dark

Adele Graf’s poetry has appeared previously in CV2. Her poems have also appeared in The Dalhousie Review, The Antigonish Review, Vallum, Room Magazine, White Wall Review, Canadian Woman Studies, Qwerty, Ars Medica and Parchment. Adele lives in Ottawa, where she devotes her time to writing, singing, her family, and her cat.