Here is the poem I want to rewrite in a complete new voice, perspective, you can even change the POV.
Poem: Title: Saline Lock
This week, in training— as a combat medic needles glinting under fluorescent light
My battle buddies and I
practiced on mannequins first their rubber skin
yielding easily obediently But then
it was time for each other flesh to flesh
My turn first an 18-gauge needle
poised like a spear flush syringe ready to follow
Steps repeated in my head
like a prayer: constricting band sterilize pull skin distal puncture attach saline lock flush and wrap
I breathed steady
focused saline lock secured Then my turn
to have my Medial Cubital Vein pierced
My battles’ hands trembling like
leaves in a storm the needle quivering
He tried to hide but I felt his anxiety
vibrating through the air
Trust wavered my vein suddenly
detached skin a fortress His eyes
pools of worry mirrored my own I offered my arm
steady like a true soldier yet inside
electrical currents clashed waves of doubt
and hope colliding He began
each motion heavy with hesitation
each breath a mountain salty sweat sabotaging his view
San Antonio’s humidity not helping The needle approached
a slow invasion Time stretched thin
and fragile seconds like hours Then, the puncture
sharp acute but brief Saline flushed a clear surrender
Relief and sigh washed over both of us the lock a bridge
between fear and courage anxiety and trust
Under harsh light and hot humid temperatures
a step closer toward our Hippocratic Oath of saving lives.
Here is the poem I want to rewrite in a complete new voice, perspective, you can
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