A Bit of Liquid

My nostrils sting
A little juice of brain and body
drips solomnly out
as if to say,
"You've had a day of it, haven't you?
That last sadness was too great for your
solid strength. Now where did I put my head?"
And after visiting hours with the drip
are over, and all's said and done
with a plucked tissue.
And there's a bit of bliss
that life's pain does not pass me by,
I feel, and breathe, and drip,
Therefore I am alive.