musings on dealing with a broken heart

(inspired by surrealist art)



In dreams I’m running towards you
but the kites fly me away. When we
pretend to drown I always let you
come up first. I’ll beg you to pick
the face that loved me. One part of
the telephone reaching to the other side
of the mountain. Soon the trees sprout
to cover my heart. I pull down the blue  
blanket of sky to let the moon in. Let you
in. You always get what you want
from me, walking the winding staircase
of my throat. I'll unzip your
face to find my own, keep
an eye in my mouth, two windows in my
ears. There are some days I disappear
and you find me dangling in the swing
on your finger. The way
your lips melt into mine, creating a
shimmering space between worlds. My love is
a giraffe, a ladder, a giant yellow rose
twining from the ocean. I’ll try everything
to get you back, remove half of my head
to let the flowers tumble out. My shoes
of coiling sashes of thorns. The way
our house births another house
then another. How slowly the blood
runs down, down. Down.