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Yi Yang, MS1

The first time I picked up the scalpel,

timid and apprehensive,

I poked myself reflecting

your dorsal dermis with squeaky cheese adipose and fascia.

The miniscule blade-prick was unalarming,

What a comfort to realize that some incisions could be painless.

The most difficult was hearing the electric saw,

razing through bone,

penetrating and retreating millimeters from your senses:

spinal cord, brain, and heart.

I feared that vibrating plate

as thin as a hair shaking your bones to dust.

As the only exception to never destroying a masterpiece,


made each exposure an unveiling,

where the days stretched and lasted onward.

Why were you so intent to share secrets of beauty?

I thought I saw it all,