mom gave blood regularly and on occasion i participated in research studies. one of us was focused on conserving the present and the other with preserving the past. i didn’t think they could do anything with her blood other than use it for study but didn’t really know so on occasion wonder how many lives she may have saved while working to rescue her own. on the other hand, i didn’t think they could do anything with my opinions other than study them because it didn’t seem plausible that truth could be extracted from a lab defined with limited parameters. mom wanted to eat, i wanted to get naked and for the most part, we were both taking the long way home.
the dark divide reminded me of a waterfall, a small body of water, being a child in nature, naked and unafraid. i may always wonder what they paid her as i think of that place as home and longing to release the woulds still lingers, just like plasma’s grip on the spectrum of hope.