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The Heart
December 24, 2012
There is a constellation in your cinnamon freckles.
Your cheeks are tainted by the blush
that blossoms when you know you are being studied
until you look up to find you are alone
and the warmth returns to that pulsing chamber
where it is extinguished and reborn.
Perhaps the faintest melodies of pianos and violins
sleep behind your eyelids and flow through your veins.
© Rebecca W., Kannapolis, MD
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This article has 3 comments.
Padoodallee GOLD said...
on Dec. 29 2012 at 6:44 pm
You described the heart very well! The part where you say "the warmth returns to that pulsing chamber where it is extinguished and reborn," I recognized the comparison between emotions and a literal beating heart. Good word choice.
ladybugsrock SILVER said...
on Dec. 29 2012 at 11:16 am
Wow! Your work is so unique! I loved how you took a totally new idea to your poetry and mastered it! Please read some of my work as well! Thanks:)
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Favorite Quote:
"Finding is losing something else. I think about, perhaps even mourn, what I lost to find this." -- Richard Brautigan