The Capillary

My arterial life takes its turn to the heart; chemicals and infusions arm my father’s diminished limbs, pulling my mind on his frame. I let him relax upon the needle. I run quietly throughout time. The flood of warm laughter. The sting of lives parting. The swelling parts of his night blue veins. How they branch along thinning, anxious skin. They flow in a cycle just like mine do.