Dear Crush, You Have Become My Muse

Let’s play operation,

You be my retractor - retract away my heavy thoughts,

And I be your scalpel,

Try me! I’m more finer.

Or I could be your surgical glove,

Entangled in your hand,

Sitting closely by your palm.

Or the lapel of your apron,

Resting over your heart,

And hugging around your arm.

Or that white dial tied around your wrist,

So close to your skin.

Or those lenses cuddled up with your nose,

Making you look so cute,

And I, losing my sleep.

You feel like iv cannula,

Administrating into me - thoughts of you in scrubs and checks and cream.

I envy your stethoscope,

Which gets to hang around your neck,

And you pamper it to the best,

Keeping it safe and sound in your nest.

My PA view chest has a new finding,

Because now my HEART HAS DEVELOPED an EYE for you.

And like that Raynaud’s phenomena of pale to blue to red,

My cheeks brighten up,

With all the blushes you initiate.

You are so picturesque,

Drawn with so much care.