Fever burns the inner sanctum of one’s brain,
allowing tiny droplets of sour to strain
the nerves within. Creeping among the
medicines of ceremonious culture, is a
...
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Oh, Melvina...a fetid scene indeed. You bring alive the surgeon's nemesis. -T. Bell Francesca...I asked Melvina to restore my comment when she reposted her poems. She is she...Melvina. I am Tailor...or T. Bell...nevertheless, myself. Sorry 'bout the confusion.
Oh man what a heavey poem Mel. true but heavey, I lost a leg but I am glad is was not rhoght Gangrene wow what a killer, love dave xxx
This poem did several things to me. It educated me, made me aware of the power of gangrene, frightened me. Excellent use of words here, Melvina. Love, Fran xx ps. Maggots, used clinically, may help! Those men in WW trenches who had limbs eaten away by maggots were the ones who came out best. pps Are you T Bell as well?
A dark and terrible fate you have described so well.