My heart is a cardinal
beating across the winds. It loves
for the sake of holy hell this world is
wondrous look at all those bluey greens
below me. It loves for the thrill of its feathers
shivering across the universal buzz and hum.
It loves because it is a holy thing to spot
a lighthouse gleaming from the corner
of one’s eye. Turn to face a set of deep
seated browns and say oh baby-
there you are.
…love always happens that way too, doesn’t it?
Some people take their hearts and store them in the top of a tower
with a moat made of laser beams and a dragon that breathes spermicides
They say never, not ever until the one truest of true loves reaches
the tipidy tip top will my heart wake up and get out of bed.
Not until then will my heart begin to live.
And that’s all good and fine, I suppose.
All I’m saying is your soul mate could be meandering
by with a mouth full of a relish and mustard hotdog
and you wouldn’t be able to see it from all the way up there.
He might be the most majestic ordinary fella with sauce on his
lips that you ever had the privilege of laying your eyes on.
That’s all I’m saying.
We all prefer different
shades of love.
My shade of love is a vital red,
too uppity and rowdy to be pent up there.
It wants to be shoulder to shoulder with streaky chaos.
It wants to skip down these city streets with a heart beaming
through flesh and clothes like a shiney magic rock against
sidewalks and taxi fumes and plastic litter. It craves to fall and break
and rise with the sun. It shatters and melts and pounds and glows
for the pizza man and his round belly, and the brick walls with ivy
creeping up their ribs, for the first scuffed edge of new white shoes.
My heart, my heart! It reels like mad and then relaxes into awe of reddish
hughes in the evening. My heart is even more curious now than
when I was a child, damn it, my heart is a feral woman, hair
set to fire and she wants only to run And I am here- well,
my body is here, chasing her about My flesh, trying to
keep her safe and together, My thighs, growing strong
carrying her truth. My eyes leaking every time
her heart string is tugged- she’s a leaker and
my ears strain. She loves to cackle and scream.
I love for the sake of loving because
that is how my stomach
ingests the universe.
I live my life rolling in dusty love
like an itchy stray dog.
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