is the way
you look at
me
only a function of the way
you hold your hands
there, in your lap
closed, slumping
closed?
if I closed mine
would yours suddenly open
uncurling
would they grasp and
catch
at the air, open?
mine is not the heart
of a flickering butterfly
or a candle in a howling wind
a fragile thing
and while it is tempestuous
arhythmic
it is not fragile
the heart is a muscle
it pumps
it is not a glass ornament
for you to peer at
on hours, afraid of shattering
it, it is to be fed
with iron
with density
blood and touch
-and it cannot be
blocked up.
it will fail.