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Emergency Room

by Lisa Marie Brodsky

It’s a rule: love can start in the ER,
love can heighten, love can wind around
you both.
It’s because of the accidents, the danger,
The almost-emergencies and true emergencies.

On this day, you bled from a broken vessel
in your throat. You were dizzy and I drove
you to the ER, keeping my cool, swirling
around construction. Inside, you rested
your head on my shoulder and I insisted
going everywhere with you. I felt protective;

this is how it started. And while
They Who Know deemed you fine,
I couldn’t block out the hysterical cries
of the baby down the hall, the woman
who cursed for her I.V. to be taken out.
I couldn’t ignore the fact that
we were in a place where tragedies
take place and although you weren’t
one of them, you could have been.

That was when I wanted to climb
into the narrow bed and clutch onto you.
But I stayed in my seat, holding your
hand, rubbing your fingers.
The ER isn’t Venice, Paris, or any
other romantic getaway, but it’s inspired.
It will be remembered as the place
where I clumsily and truthfully spilled out,

“I’m falling in love with you.”

I need you in my life. I want you in my life
and like people in the same predicament
before me, I kissed my lover
not ever wanting to return to this
beautiful, frightening
underworld again.


Posted on 06/22/2007
Copyright © 2022 Lisa Marie Brodsky

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