I held a real heart in my hands today.

I held it in my palms so cautiously
as if it were gold,
yet that didn't stop me
from feeling as if it were going to break.

I saw a straight incision
slice down the middle and
felt the eerie texture of its atriums
sit on the base of my fingertips.

And I realized just how fragile
this person's heart must have been.
I wondered if she ever got her heart broken
much deeper than some superficial carving.

I wondered if her heart ever pumped
faster or harder or
stronger or passionately
at the sight of another.

I wondered if maybe she gave hers away
thinking of it as a last plea
to the one person she loved most,
but it just ended up in my fragile fingers.

gd