Heart

Heart (7th February, 2011)

I cannot give you my heart
like this,
damaged as it is
by past lovers;

you will not want it, broken and fixed
a hundred times, exposed
and then recovered.

I cannot tear it from my chest
to wrap in tissue paper;
the blood would turn the carpet red
and stain my hands;

I will not be Lady Macbeth:
controlling, desperate
and depressed,
and I’m no Juliet:
innocent, and unafraid
of Death, should Love
slip fast like Time-sands.

You’ll understand, won’t you?
Because you understand me,
don’t you?

But I cannot give you my heart
like this,
it’s not a quiz,
the questions designed to be
answered, monosyllabically:

I love you.

Do you?

Then I will give you my heart.