The heart had bled,
But – don’t they always come so
The most beautiful hearts – scarred
It wanted to kill itself,
Swing down the 10th floor terrace
Into the traffic below
Yet – they said to follow it
Fools, unknowing well wishers
Do we always need
To follow things – unsafe?
Particulars which bring us harm,
The morning coffee, the last cigarette or a heart
What about a burnt heart,
Or one with a hole –
But – what does one drenched in a baleful black do?
Squeeze it out?
Hearts are much like a melancholic melody,
When you look at them,
Reaching a crescendo then diminuenco
Finally receding into the late winter twilight
Upon my midsummer grave,
I laid my heart – bare and scarred
It was but a beautiful sight
Heart, naked on the dusky grave