Mudded Water
The hematologist oncologists love blood different than me
Wanting to split it into smaller and smaller sections,
To tear it into pieces and label its constituents
As a clerk takes stock of his shelves
Notes what is well selling
And places strategic traps
For rats and weevils.
I love blood in its entirety, for its force,
Fearing no disfigurement,
Just dribble
As the mother of five fears the river running dry
Watching for rain
As she runs the laundry over the board carefully,
To stir up no silt.
Author: Maya J. Sorini
Maya J. Sorini is a narrative medicine scholar, performer, medical student, and award-winning poet with a background in trauma surgery research. Her first collection, The Boneheap in the Lion's Den, won the 2023 Press 53 Award for Poetry. Maya has a master's degree and has taught in Columbia University's Narrative Medicine program and continues to work as a freelance Narrative Medicine workshop facilitator. Her work has appeared in many arts and medical journals, including JAMA, Intima Magazine, Auxocardia, and Doxy's Op Med. Maya currently attends Hackensack Meridian School of Medicine and lives in Bergen County with her grandmother.