battleground
uncharted territory
hiding place
joyful aching bursting empty
familiar and mysterious
brick walls crumble at the wrong word
shields go up
it's tight
then the next moment flowers bloom there and spring arrives
it's delicate
it changes
hard and soft
a memory box inside your chest
a sacred space for sacred feelings
both hidden and declared
a punching bag sometimes
it hangs sore and tired
then a 5 year old on a trampoline
wild and free
up and down
an organ we dress up with poetic language
every beat of it keeping us alive
pumping pumping pumping
very physical
it must mean something
our ticker
our hub
our essence
our home
our heart
our human heart