Ode to Blood

It is getting to where it is needed. Old friends, visible veins, have begun to visit the rock of a foot at the end of my right leg. Under siege, the swelling has been in retreat. Purple and red shifts to pink. The callouses on the soles of my feet are long gone, and summer barefoot season is past. Still can't feel anything on one side under the calf muscle. Tiny corpuscles pick up the toxic waste of too much postponement. Stiffness dreams of breaking the bonds of limitation. Numb, stiff, hard, calcified, I wiggle my toes. Don't really care much about how the skin hangs there, no longer taut; I just want to be move, swivel, bear, and walk. It is blood I need, blood I long for, blood that quells the ache in my heart. I have been frozen for too long.