Let me tell you how a heart
can unravel its heartstrings,
slowly and painfully
and almost certainly bloody.
Medical books and romance novels
alike are written on how ancient
a conscious the heart is, a veined
machine that has learned how
to feel simple emotions –
love, and maybe heartbreak
as it shatters apart like a
pottery sculpture dropped.
People give splendid speeches
about love and it all comes back to how
we tried to make vital organs into
the stars far off, and how we turned
tools of life into a reason
to let tears slip down our cheeks.
How we turned our own anatomy into
something like a miracle.
Lastly, let me tell you how we tried
to transform hearts from precision
instruments into things so
easily broken.

I don't have to tell you
how well that went.