THE ALCHEMIST

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.

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