My pictures

7 hours of marking, a matter of choice.

Neurotransmitters

unfathomable, vast and empty.

Apoptosis and the death of cancer

always on a journey, ill

DNA and a cause for everything,

a mutation here

and a blue-eyed wonder boy there.

 

In the end,

I wanted to howl like Ginsberg

to feed my patience.

To learn to think,

and clean a wound that won’t close.

Another shadow in a fading light,

a vast and empty hole.