They showed it on TV that doctor

They showed it on TV, that doctor,

easy in his practiced hand.

And I remembered. The fluorescent hum.

The paper gown, rough against my back.

Then the disc, silver, against my skin,

a sudden, shocking chill.

My breath caught, a shallow thing,

my heart hammering, too loud,

trying to hide, but amplified.

That cold metal, pressing down,

listening to the wet, frantic thump

of something so utterly mine,

so vulnerable,

and now, exposed.

Just a sound,

a mechanical beat,

under a stranger's ear.