i want you to eat well,
so i’ll serve my big, red heart, poached, on a platter
made especially for you.
you are greedy, so you eat it all, and it makes me
happy. i want to feed you, lead you
into the garden where we can sit,
into the cold air, where maybe
we can keep each other
warm again. i’m afraid you have me
perched, so delicately,
between your thumb and your forefinger, and i
can only squirm my way out by sitting
in the palm of your calloused hand.
i don’t mind it really,
i give in to it, and it eats me
whole.