Dazzling

Ain't I a Woman

I bought myself flowers,
a happy bunch of gerberas;
yellow petals bursting,
obviously joyful,
from their seedy bullseye centres.

This morning the blood tests
came back to get me.
I want to make a lame joke
about whore moans
to tide my surge of sadness
but I keep it all inside me.
A chaos of chemicals
coded within me
has delivered the message
in wicked black numbers:

old.