I can't help it:
throughout the day
my hand goes to
the small round hard
protrusion above my heart
the bearing that
drives my life.
It feels unnatural.
It feels inhuman
even though I realize
it drives the rhythm
of my heart and
keeps me alive.
I feel like Faust
and begin to question
if every trade medical
science offers is in
the best interests of
the human spirit.
