The Doctor, Part 30

Sick of being
prepared
like the feature
victim
in a survival-horror
film,

I am sick
of being
prepared
with nothing
but
synthetics,

saturated in synthetics
slowing me down,

thank you
for being
my Magnificent Seven,
my hero
who shows up
at the last minute
when my fingers are
slipping off the edge,

thank you
for locking me up
when I turn
into worse than a werewolf
ready to shred
the first
wrong word,

thank you
for being
my best friend,
I’m glad we
haven’t been married
long enough
to kill each other
in a late, long, mean corridor,

I’m glad there’s
so much
fresh blood between us
that we’re still enjoying
all the new flavors,
new meals,
the occasional
new look,
new feels,
new love,
so much
still new
advancing
impudently
into the hot face
of mortality
becomes
easier
in the vague, rare, singular comfort
of trust.

 

The entire The Doctor series can be found here.