Cure Penalty

A blind shade injected through a cranial straw,  
and the flowers twirled off  
on a ballerina's calloused sole.  

The nerve pulses broke in star fall  
through the livid canvas of a solitary cage.  
The brain faltered, but pumped sodium rock.  
 
There are doctors, doctors that fix,  
doctors that heal. In this contortion of coordinate grids of spliced concept,  
the images of screamers of reproach  
fought the needle out.  
There are doctors. They are killers of the virus.  
 
The stars coalesced into one sun  
seen to in the burn of sight.  
The breath proceeds to  
revolt a last time.  
 
But the cage shrunk on the impulse  
and the brain wandered to the light  
as the injection of blind shade  
reared the sinner's life below the rampart stem  
let loose in petals of a dancer's sprain.