mmmdlxviii

To Heart a Heart

a twisted
tangled hem
inside a him

a hemisphere
or two away;
what holds that

hem? the world
at sway. who
can even see

his own hand
before him,
much less

wrap such
a beaten
heart inside

such a tempt
ing box so man
y thousand miles

of months and
years and in
ternets away?

but distance
only magnifies
desire. i’d

crawl a million
lifetimes through
swampy clay or

swim the seas
of mud for an
eternity, i swear,

to claw right
through that
pretty box

and its tomato-

shaped red felt

pin cushion

to mend that

but beaten beat,
heart of my heart

and never, 

no, would

i be pricked

bloodless 

nor ever

lose my way.