20
mri
by Iris Schwartz
I insert yellow foam
earplugs after adjusting
the pillow under my head
and wait
to be pulled through this
tunnel for twenty minutes.
I had already decided—
before the preparatory knock-
knock and the whir-
whir drill sounds that hurt my teeth,
rattle my rings, and
cause my right ear to pop
I had already decided that
to get through this
I would think of you
touching and kissing
me. I know
what I have with
you will last
longer than twenty minutes.
This image rattles,
like my rings, jars,
like the knock-knock,
the whir-whir, the pop.
This image—us,
for the moment—
barely pulls me
through.