Take this moment

and lock it

in this heart-shaped locket.

It's anatomical,

because she's logical,

less philosophical

than me. I'm this heart,

she's all head. She said,

"We balance on edge

and so, if this ends-

if we part-

take my heart."

In a fist, I clench the locket

slip it into my pocket

carry it

ferry it

everywhere.

There's heather there,

at the edge of the air

in her halo of hair and wisping sighs... 

 

If the skies

arch over the sea

in a sleek raging spree

and my boat tosses, free

I may land on a strand thick with sand

a lone desert island

With nothing else, I will stand

locket's weight in my hand

It's my creed, 

anatomical lead,

with her heart

I'm freed.

That's all I need.