Poetry

The Heart

The fake out happened when we were taught
The smooth curvatures
And piercing point of the heart
Perfectly symmetrical
Empty bubbles to be colored in
Pink and red.
It became sweet confections
That dissolved sticky on our tongues
And the emblem of forbidden notes.

But it wasn’t until
We slit the skin and cracked the ribs
To expose a heart.
The heart.
Knotted
Tubes sprawling in all directions
Veiny, crimson and gory,
And a beat hanging on for dear life,
That I understood why love is such a mess.

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