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He mentioned it so matter-of-factly at the free medical clinic on that frigid January evening. "Are y'all from the U?" "We are" "My sister-in-law is there." "Oh...what does she study?" "No, she's at the university hospital. Burn unit. Her boyfriend murdered the kids and tried to kill her, too." "That's awful..." is all I know to say as I pull the blood pressure cuff snug.

- J, M4

Expressions of Love: One Medical Student's Perspective on the Beauty of Breastfeeding

Dusk is near, Your day of study at its end. We stand still, quiet. Our evening ritual begins. We take a long moment, Surveying one another with delight, Treasuring today. Suddenly, your famine overtakes you. You begin your ravenous search for nourishment. When you find it, you affix yourself with a determination that implies permanence. You claim your stake and glance my way to make it understood. As you devour your prize you become voracious, Your small hands grip me with strength that would not seem possible. We are enmeshed in battle, Your hands grasping my face, neck, hair with wild ferocity, Your feet maneuvering swiftly at the edge of our enclosure. And I am amazed you are still feasting. I begin to engage my forces. First, a small brush along your side. Next, a caress of your underarm. And you are smiling, laughing, All the while retaining control of your territory. We carry on this way. Eventually, I abandon my assail. Grateful, you initiate one final effort, Consuming with renewed vigor. But you are weary and worn. The campaign has taken its toll. Gradually, all fighting ceases. Your eyes are blanketed, no longer flashing around our encampment. Your breathing is deep, I can feel it overtaking your entirety. Your small hand rests heavy atop my bosom like a small white flag of surrender. I examine you one last time. I am awed by the expansiveness of your existence. How can a person so small fill my heart beyond measure? I softly lay you in your bunk. You barely perceive it. As I make my way to the exit, your eyes flicker open briefly. A final smile, your eyes close, and we part.

- Caitlin Regner, M4

Words Unexpected

Pre-pubescent body, bloodied and bruised Lifted from a husband four decades her elder Into sterile hands weathered by life and death Her presence made known by moans To women whose eyes speak of hunger Their words unexpected “Never question your husband” “Deserves to be beaten” Innocence drips from my eyes A puddle of sorrow

- Tyler Etheridge, M2

Watching

I watch on the monitor as your heart stops beating I watch as you walk down the hallway, knowing that you have ALS before you do I watch as the chest x-ray shows your cancer has spread It seems so unfair that I know these things before you do To me you are an “interesting case” to talk about over lunch, but to you this is everything What gives me this right to know how your life will turn out? I feel like I can't even help you, not yet.

- Anonymous, M4