Whispers

4:14 PM Poetry 0 Comments

We speak in whispers
rolling gentle across our tongues
like a canoe on the ocean.
She clasps her heart with both hands,
kisses it softly and holds it out to me -
an offering on the altar that she has built
from the faces of all the girls she's ever loved.
I show her the piece of my heart that remains
untainted by the pain of separation.
She takes it and chews,
her teeth caught on the chewy bits of life
taking me into her, consuming. 
With respect I take hers, fractured and scarred
I stroke it gently, its rhythm still beating
in time with my breathing.
I kiss it, cradling her heart
like a child - protective and caring.
"Don't break it," she whispers in my ear,
her lips touching my earlobe ever so lightly.
"its my only heart."