The doctor's voice
like a malformed heart
that failed to twist . . .
form walls . . .
at your age and with . . .
the medications you take . . .
all organs compromised, all . . .
for him to start-stutter-stop
like the malformed heart
struggling for its beat inside me;
what choices do I have?
Proper as God with a gun, he says
For Bjorn's prompt at Real Toads
I've done some heavy editing of this piece since I first posted it. The original wasn't getting its point across, I fear. Perhaps I've done a better job with this version. We shall see . . .