POETRY

A lament for my removed cyst

by Daniel Wright

I asked, my Euridice, to look
into the plastic jar they put you in.
You seem so spongy, and unthreatening.
The hardness I had felt against my spine
for months and months is all forgotten.
Cyst of my twentieth year,
all the stitches in my neck cannot
restrain the loneliness that ruptures
within me, as the doctor says
you surely would have.