David Anson Lee
Not the tumor:
expected,
almost courteous
in its clarity;
but the gray matter
like weathered stone
under a thin electric sky.
The report will say:
irregular margins,
possible invasion,
recommend correlation.
No one will mention
how beautiful
the damage is:
how even ruin
leans toward form
and symmetry,
the way the brain
holds on to light.
About the author
David Anson Lee is a poet whose work explores memory, illness, mortality, perception, and the fragile boundaries between the body and the world around it. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in literary journals and magazines including Still Point Arts Quarterly, New Contrast, Plainsongs, and The Awakenings Review. His debut chapbook, The Body Keeps Its Inventory in Shadow, is forthcoming from Kelsay Books. His work often draws upon medicine, visual art, science, and lived experience to examine how we make meaning from vulnerability and loss. He lives in Houston, Texas, and writes about poetry and the creative process on Substack.