On The Passing Of A Kidney Stone

You're finally outside, allowing me at last

To see you clearly.

So small, so conventional, so seemingly insignificant.

So unconcerned, so unaware of what you have done to us.

We didn't expect you.

You passed through us far slower than we thought possible.

You hurt us far more than we ever dreamed you could.

And now after the

torture

Of you, we are spent, drained, nearly to the end of our power

We will grow strong in time but now

Our head pressed against the wall for support

We at last look at the specimen clearly.

So small

So conventional

So seemingly insignificant.

Still unconcerned, still unaware of what you have done to us.

You came from within us, perhaps culled from our worse habits.

And even in our relief at your absense we are left with the

terror:

May there be another

Just like you, so small and conventional?

So overwhelmingly insignificant?

But we can hope this: never to see you again.

Awareness' lack will not rescue you.

When we remember you, we will remember only the pain.


Only one thing left to do.

Flush.