BY CELINA REYNES, ’16
I did it.
Not with mercury,
or chalky beads of sulfur,
but with humble stone
I swept
Aristotelian philosophy
under the rug.
It was heaven
doing it while everybody was asleep;
holding it beneath my lamp-light
just to see it glitter.
I couldn’t help myself.
I ate it up.
Now my blood is gold.
I can’t extract an ounce,
not one sad drop.
