Heartbeats are not meant to be regular.
They're meant to sputter, wet and dark,
Underneath too many layers of skin.
When broken they must be robotic,
Rhythmic, monosyllabic and
When loved, they must pulse against
The lips of your lover at the neck.
Hearts were never meant to be
Unattainable, undesirable,
Detrimental.
But rather they exist to be heard
Through your shirt and skin
And commitment issues
And to be felt in moments draped
In fear and strength.
But here we stand, you with your
Steady pulse
And silly me, with the taste of comfort
Once again on my lips and
The smell of you in my messy hair,
My own heart reminded of the past.