My ancient heart
swims dragon laps
around the lanes
and molten pools
through veins and gaps
my body has. It drags
its way and squeezes
through - sometimes
my heart is in my foot.
I kick and stomp to force
its rise - sometimes it's
in a lung, and then
I breath half-fire
truths and lies, sometimes
it's mostly in my head.
It throbs and beats
interminably. If only I
could swallow it down
to find it in my throat
would be
about as close
to natural as anyone
could fair expect. My heart
got free so long ago, I can't
quite tell where it should go
to be correct.
Majestic.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
ReplyDeleteI may need to take another crack at this. Whole separate poem I mean, but same concept: a heart unmoored dragging itself around the body.
I like how this turned out! But it's a bit too majestic, I think. The original image I had in mind was of the heart as a dumb dog always popping up in unexpected place, wedged in the furniture...
Still. I do like this take.
I look forward to 2.0
ReplyDelete