Antiseptic operational sheen
You made the break clean
Blood never touched your hands
So none could soak your conscious
You handled it plain faced
She trusted you on the operation table
She was patient & she was yours
When it was done,
You reaped the rewards
Although a clean break can be sterile
Her healing went all wrong
She went home, pale & cold
Still fuzzy from the medication
Bled herself dry on the kitchen table
Then later on, again, then again
Your cut was straight
But you couldn’t anticipate
That she could feel your infection
The infection of rejection
In which always stains the blade
Her heart would never be the same