I saw my mother in her bra
once,
the day her heart rose up indignant,
seized—
and brought her to her knees

She stood tincture in hand
lifelong faith in earth’s medicine
she still believed it would ease,
loosen the vice grip
(not this time)

That day I remembered—
saw her soft turtle body under the certainty
the marble godliness, life’s layers hardened into
a bullet proof vest—
I was held to that heartbeat
once,
I needed that skin like food
She was held to a heartbeat
once,
she needed that skin like food
You were held to a heartbeat
once,
you needed that skin like food

If I close my eyes in morning sun
I hear it still—
in the rhythm of the rain
silent sway
quiver of wing
lingering
deep ocean drum
seedling hum—
earth’s heartbeat

My heart beats poetries. Do you hear it?

The familiar ba-bump ba-bump,
Of spikes and valleys on the screen,
The electrocardiogram
Looked the same as it’s always been.

The doctor turned toward the nurse
And traced the image with his hand,
“This heartbeat look completely fine.
I simply do not understand.”

The nurse stared back at him baffled,
And the doctor just cracked a smile.
“I heard of this in medical school,
But it has really been a while.”

“You have?” asked the curious nurse.
“Does the condition have a name?”
“True Love,” the wistful doctor laughed.
“You heartbeat never feels the same.”

The nurse removed the patient’s wires,
Who pointed to the screen above.
The doc said, “Your heart’s different—”
He smiled, “Because I’m so in love.”

His heart beat in two
And mine was in three
Our cadence was always just off
But I switched to a two
One bright afternoon
When I missed a beat trying to cough