» Poetry

The Doctor Laments

For our kidneys cratered

 like the swollen moon

For the way time hangs

 on our bones

For our confused lungs, blooming

 white and yellow destruction

For our exhausted hearts, roused

 to expansion by want and need

For the loss of the ancient stars

 in our blood and marrow

For the mines of our bodies

 that generate iridescent crystals and stones

For the dark shadows shifting

 in our souls

And our inability to escape them