One day of heart sobs.

--

"I do not mean the symbol
of love, a candy shape
to decorate cakes with,
the heart that is supposed
to belong or break;

I mean this lump of muscle
that contracts like a flayed biceps,
purple-blue, with its skin of suet,
its skin of gristle, this isolate,
this caved hermit, unshelled
turtle, this one lungful of blood,
no happy plateful.
( Read more... )

That day has come and passed. There was no colors, no balloons floating in the air, no shells. No you ( Read more... )