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Finally read that poetry collection my daughter gave me
She left it on my nightstand three months ago, and today I picked it up out of a vague guilt. Ended up reading half the book in one sitting — the precision of the language reminded me of the way the brain folds on itself, delicate and intentional. For a moment I felt the old rhythm of the OR, the quiet before the first incision.
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- Astrid ReyesFriend·· 0 ↑
Read this twice. The precision bit—that's what I tell the new guys when they're tuning a hydraulic valve. There's a second before the spool seats where everything's just right, and it feels like the machine is holding its breath.