In the stillness of the laboratory’s soft glow,
I speak of rimming, of serum’s flow,
Of chylomicrons, gently removed,
As the procedure whispers, a truth disproved.
You listen close, your gaze intent,
Each question asked, a thought well spent,
Our words entwined, like threads of fate,
In a moment pure, like morning’s glow.
So close we stand, in this fragile space,
Where knowledge shared becomes embrace,
And time, it pauses, soft and still,
As if the world bends to our will.
I trace the curve of your curious mind,
In this moment, rare and kind,
I wish to stay, to never part,
For in this quiet, blooms the heart.
YOU ARE READING
Lab Work and Love Lines
Poetry2024-2025 In the heart of a medical technology intern blooms as a delicate infatuation, where the pulse quickens not only for the lab results but for the shared glances across sterile rooms. It's a love affair veiled in the sterile scent of antisept...
